Necessary Knowledge to Survive a Zombie Apocalypse
by Shadow Zee
Summary: Proof that a hard-ass has a heart. Daryl/OC. Season Two of "TWD". Rated T for language and sensuality. Second part of the "Necessary Nouns" story-verse.
1. Introduction

_Necessary Knowledge to Survive a Zombie Apocalypse_

Introduction for a World Long Gone

It began as a fever, which burned and burned until the sick ones cooked to death. But that wasn't the end of it, because they came back. Rose up from their deathbeds and began a rampage all over the world. Flesh-eating creatures from movies and books, come to life for real. Death was no longer the end, no longer the final stage. It was merely the conclusion to step one of someone's life.

For a long time, I walked alone. There were no friends or family or anyone left to run to. Only the walker-filled streets and back roads of the devastated city of Atlanta where I had once lived. So I fled and hunted and hid until I unintentionally found a small pocket of survivors. A lot has happened since our first meeting—a lot of losses and sadness—but we're still here. We're still alive and kicking. We're still human.

I can't say that the road ahead will be easy. I'd be lying if I told you that things are going to get better. The truth is, I just don't know. None of us do. All we know is that we have to keep moving, have to keep surviving.

Rick is our unofficial leader—strong-minded, kind, wants nothing more than to protect all of us. But he's struggling against the hard decisions; I can see it. His family, Lori and Carl, follow him like sheep to shepherd. They are his whole world bundled into two frail bodies.

Carol is getting stronger, more willing to speak out to the group, say what's on her mind. The shiest one, even more so than me, actually saved our lives two days ago at the CDC. Without her and that grenade she found in Rick's clothes, we'd all be ash in the wind. Her daughter, Sophia, is very lucky to have such a loving mother.

I notice that the stressful gap between tough-guy Shane and gentle Lori grows more everyday. I sometimes wonder where they'd be had Rick not come back. And Andrea? She hardly says a word, not after Dale dragged her out of the CDC, as opposed to letting her burn like she wanted. But that's the kind of person Dale is—wise, stubborn, never letting someone fall.

Glenn's grown into someone I barely recognize. He holds his gun now as though he was born into the apocalypse and knows nothing other than killing the walking dead. It's sad, really.

Big-man T-Dog is still one of the friendliest guys in the group. He never shouts or threatens anyone with rough words, like Daryl does on occasion.

That brings me to the hard-ass—Daryl Dixon. Always wearing that smug, irritated look, like everything is in inconvenience for him. But in the short time that I've known the son of a bitch, he's evolved into something else entirely. He's grown up and opened his heart…and to _me_, no less, the stranger, newcomer, soft-spoken, careless, deer-hunting mushroom-picker of the bunch. I never believed in fairytales until I found my own with him. A wasteland, apocalyptic fairytale, but one nonetheless.

Now we're all just trying to make it out alive. Make it through the next day, hour, minute, second. Fort Benning is our destination—a place of imagined safety from walkers. But it's a long trek, and there are monsters around every corner. So we stick together, humanity's last-ditch effort to survive.

This is Marlie Bryant, and I'm telling anyone out there who's still alive, who's still human, that there is still hope. There will always be hope.

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><p>And so it begins, ladies and gentlemen. Season Two.<p> 


	2. Don't Be a Jinx

Chapter one is here! *dances around excitedly* I know it's a little late in the day, but I had to think about how I was going to go about writing this chapter. Still, here it is! Tomorrow I have an 8-hour-long driving trip across state and then TWD is on at 9pm, so I will be unable to post another chapter until Monday. Sorry about that. But don't fret! Anyway, here you go! Enjoy, comment, be happy!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own _The Walking Dead_, much to my own disappointment. Marlie, however, is 100% mine.

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><p><em>Necessary Knowledge to Survive a Zombie Apocalypse<em>

Chapter One: Don't be a Jinx

"Morgan and Duane."

"Huh?"

"The guy Rick was talkin' to. His name's Morgan and Duane's his little boy."

The young woman stood before the hunter, blinking in obvious surprise. "How did you—"

"You've been eyeballin' that walkie ever since Grimes came back." Daryl shrugged as he leapt up into the back of his rundown truck. "Can I borrow your knife?" he asked, holding his hand out to Marlie.

She unsheathed it from her hip and gave it to him without question.

"Thank you kindly."

Marlie nodded before going back to the previous subject. "So Rick was actually _talking_ to someone?"

"No, no, Morgan's some guy he met back in Atlanta, before he found the camp. Duane's Morgan's son. Rick told 'em to go on the radio every mornin' and listen for him, but he hasn't heard from 'em, as far as I can tell."

Nodding slowly in an attempt to understand, Marlie found her old questions replaced with new ones. "Why isn't Morgan here? With us?"

The hunter shrugged again. "Went their separate ways, I guess. Rick had a family to find; Morgan had a kid to take care of."

"Oh," Marlie said simply. "You done with the knife?"

"Patience Marlie Bryant," he replied with a smirk, cutting away the last bits of rope that were securing his motorcycle to the truck. He handed it back to Marlie, handle first.

She smiled and replaced it into its holster before jumping in the truck with Daryl. The old bike before her was a classic piece of metal. A '71 Triumph. Dark, sleek, gorgeous. Marlie had never been on a motorcycle, although she'd always dreamed of acquiring her own one day. Her need for speed was insatiable. When the end of the world hit, however, she preferred to go with a more fuel-efficient, quieter, albeit fast mode of transportation—a Dodge Challenger. But it was gone now, left behind several miles outside of Atlanta, a city she was now going far from.

Daryl scooted passed her, placing a strong hand on her arm before getting out of the truck bed. "Just guide it out to me," he instructed.

"I'll help," T-Dog volunteered, finding his place beside Daryl, who nodded appreciatively.

Slowly and delicately, Marlie backed the bike up, her hands gripping the handlebars tightly.

"That's good, but if you go any slower, we'll be a hundred before we even get the damn thing on the ground." Daryl laughed at his own humor and T-Dog joined in lightheartedly. It was nice to smile during times like these.

Marlie's eyes rolled. "Haha, Daryl." She picked up speed to better suit Daryl's demands and had the Triumph on the ground a minute later, lowered safely to the gravel by the two men. "Thanks," she said kindly to T-Dog.

"No problem. Nice bike, by the way."

"Ain't nothin' better," Daryl agreed. "Have you ever been on one, Mar?"

The brunette shook her head, ruffling the curls around her shoulders. The mop was restrained seconds later when Marlie shoved it in a hair tie. "But how hard could it be? You drive and I hang on for dear life, right?" she joked.

"I ain't a bad driver," retorted Daryl.

"Says the man who tailgates RVs." Dale smirked as he strode by, carrying supplies to his vehicle up ahead.

Marlie laughed out loud.

"It was her idea!" Daryl cried out to the older man, who simply waved the hunter off casually. He turned to Marlie then. "You're mean, ya know that? Just plain mean."

Laughing again, Marlie took the man's face between her hands and stared into his rough blue gaze. "You haven't seen mean." A devilish smile touched the corners of her lips.

"I'd like to," Daryl whispered into her ear.

"Hey, lovebirds, we're going."

Marlie nodded to Glenn, her smile gone. She sighed heavily as she slung her tattered backpack over her shoulder. It was time to head off. Destination: Fort Benning. Distance: One-hundred, twenty-five miles.

She hopped onto the bike behind Daryl and wrapped her frail arms around his chest instinctively. "Like this?" she asked loudly, having to almost shout over the bike's motor roar.

"You got it," he yelled back before pulling forward slowly. "Hold on tight."

Marlie tightened her grip and rested her curly head on the man's muscular shoulder, feeling the scratchy fabric of his sleeveless plaid shirt rub against her cheek. She could feel Daryl breathing and it comforted her as they began their long journey.

TWDTWDTWD

They were hardly an hour down the highway when Marlie caught sight of something that sank her heart a little. She cursed under her breath as the group neared a heavy blockage in the road. A hundred cars—some overturned, some just abandoned—made their path that much more difficult to travel.

Clutching Daryl tightly, Marlie kept her eyes open for walkers and a way through the mess as the hunter sped ahead. They weaved between vehicles and Marlie noticed that many of them contained decayed people, rotting in the false safety of their automobiles. It was nerve-wracking to see, because Marlie imagined their heads moving or their bodies fidgeting. It was just her active, terrified brain creating scary thoughts, but it was working.

And the smell. Marlie crinkled her nose against the grotesque stench that wafted through the air. Death…it smelled like death. It was something she'd smelled a thousand times before, but would never get used to.

"Is there anyway through?" Dale asked when the pair on the bike had returned from their search.

Marlie nodded. "It's a tight fit, but it'll work."

And it would have, probably, had the RV's hose not busted yet again.

"Shit!" Daryl exclaimed at the very familiar hissing sound. He stopped the bike and ran his greasy hand atop his equally greasy hair. "Goddamn hose."

Marlie looked around, observing her surroundings and cursing the gods for marooning them in the middle of nowhere like sitting ducks _again_. But then the positivity showed through and she hurried up to the rest of the group, Daryl following behind her.

"I told you this would happen. And now we're stuck out here with—"

"Everything," Marlie finished for Dale. "Dozens of cars filled with supplies. Food, water…"

T-Dog nodded. "We could syphon some fuel, too."

"Exactly." Marlie was glad they hadn't broken down too close to the city. There were fewer walkers this way and now they'd have more food and water and anything else they needed. So she happily joined Daryl as he began collecting from the nearest vehicle.

"But this is a graveyard," said Lori suddenly, clutching Carl close to her side. "I don't know how I feel about this."

Marlie's bones shook at the sound of that. When she looked around at the highway before her, realization dawned that Lori was right.

Rick interrupted the chilling silence. "We'll be quick. Everyone, find what you can. No one goes anywhere alone. Understood?"

As expected, Marlie stuck close to Daryl. Each car she passed was given a quick, but thorough visual search. Occasionally, she found a water bottle or granola bar, but nothing really worth the risk they were all taking. Her eyes were more often on the trees and highway—where walkers could easily appear—than they were on the task at hand.

Daryl noticed her worried expression. "We'll be outta here soon," he comforted, snatching a third water bottle through one car's open window.

"Yeah, well soon might not be quick enough." Damn her for sounding pessimistic, which was completely unlike her, but after what Lori had said, Marlie's heart would not stop thumping crazily in her chest. If the scent of living people didn't attach the uglies, then her insanely loud heartbeat certainly would.

"Ain't nothin' gonna happen, okay?"

Marlie nodded with reluctance. "Sure, alright."

"Good, now just keep your eyes peeled for anything good. Shrimp cocktail or five-cheese lasagna would be nice," he joked, causing Marlie to giggle. Mission accomplished, he mused.

"Nah, I'm looking more for double cheeseburgers and ice cream. See any of that around?"

Daryl shook his head with mock sorrow. "Sorry, nothin' of the sort. But I do see an opened box of pop-tarts. Wonder how long those last until…" He trailed off at the sight of Marlie's frozen form. "Mar? Marlie?"

Inhaling deeply through flared nostrils, the young woman picked up a strong scent on the wind that had begun to blow her way. Death and rot were, as always, there, but it had since grown stronger. She remembered the night back at camp where a dozen walkers stumbled out of the forest. Moments before, Marlie could smell their putrid stink riding the wind like a storm. With wide eyes, she found the source. She gasped and spat the word "walkers" before dropping to the asphalt instinctively.

Daryl didn't bother looking; if Marlie said there were geeks, then there were geeks. That was not something anybody joked about. He motioned for Marlie to follow him beneath a truck and put an index finger to his lips.

Her voice wouldn't have been able to work if she had wanted it to. Right then, there was enough fear in her veins to poison a bear and it intensified the moment she hear shuffled steps approaching. They were a ways off, but it didn't matter. Marlie saw what was coming.

Lying on her stomach, she could see Glenn and Shane and most everyone else hiding beneath various vehicles, cowering fearfully out of view from the approaching horde.

But T-Dog was having apparent difficulties.

Marlie could see his large feet shambling around as he sought out a place to hide. She wanted to tell him to get down, to roll under the nearest car and be still, but verbalizing anything was out of the question. So she nudged Daryl and pointed in T's direction.

There was nothing he could do, really, until the black man suddenly cried out and Daryl made a call. Placing a hasty peck on the woman's cheek, he ordered, "Stay," in a stern whisper that took Marlie by surprise.

Her brows furrowed as she cast a questioning glance at the hunter. But confusion turned into horror as Daryl rolled out from under the truck and booked it forward towards T-Dog, who was now lying on the ground and clutching his arm. Tears immediately formed in Marlie's eyes and she clamped her mouth shut with her hand to stifle her sobs.

The feeling of loneliness sat heavy in her stomach and the urge to go after Daryl was unbearably strong. But she remained still, obeying his last command to her. Fucking jinx, Marlie growled mentally at the hunter, hoping he could read her thoughts. She wanted to kick his ass then, but crushed that urge the moment it appeared. After all, Daryl was only trying to help.

The sound of shoes scrapping against pavement sent Marlie's eyes to the left side of the truck. A dozen rotting legs were sauntering by and the telltale moans and groans of walkers drifted to Marlie's ears. She sucked in a yelp before it could sound and give away her position. Christ, she was scared. More scared than the car crash that took her mother and brother's lives, more terrified than the attack on the camp an eternity ago, more horrified than when she believed she and all the others would burn at the CDC. For once, Marlie was glad that her stomach was empty; otherwise, she would have thrown up its contents moments ago.

The crowd of undead shuffled through and more and more kept coming.

Marlie could barely see Daryl through the mass, which played hell with her nerves and imagination. For several long and terrible minutes, she had zero visual on Daryl or T-Dog. But eventually, the horde moved on down the highway and Marlie could see what appeared to be Daryl's feet beneath a walker. She gasped in horror and hastily scanned around to be sure the coast was clear before rolling out from under the truck and bolting down the road. As much as she wished to cry out, Marlie kept her mouth shut. The geeks may have moved on, but their ears still worked.

With her black knife in her hand, Marlie slid across one car's hood and landed hard beside the unmoving body of a corpse. All she could think of was that Daryl was dead. He was dead beneath a walker. Dead, dead, dead.

Alive?

Marlie saw his arm move and she hurriedly rolled the body off of his, her blade ready to drop on the corpse if it so much as flinched. She inhaled sharply when Daryl's eyes opened and he got to his feet as though nothing had happened.

He hurried over to another corpse, which he shoved aside to reveal T-Dog, whose arm was bleeding profusely.

So many things were running through Marlie's mind then that she barely registered the scream of young Sophia further down the road. Frankly, she was in shock with having come so close to losing the guy who she accidentally fell in love with. And she still wasn't quite sure what was happening. When Daryl ran up to her and shook her shoulders, she came back to reality and blinked up at him.

"Are you with me?" he kept repeating until he was positive that Marlie was, in fact, snapped out of it.

She nodded and looked down at a bloodied T-Dog. "Oh my god." Marlie was at the black man's side in an instant, putting pressure on his gushing forearm and looking around for anything to stop the bleeding. An idea struck her. "There's extra clothes in my pack that I can wrap your arm in. Daryl?" she looked behind her in hopes of getting Daryl to assist, but he was nowhere in sight. "The fuck?" That was all she need, to get even more worried for the hunter.

"He…just took off that way." T-Dog shakily pointed back down the highway where Marlie had been hiding. "Towards the scream."

"You mean that was real?"

T's brows furrowed and he nodded slowly.

"I was sorta hoping I had imagined it." Sighing, she helped the man to his feet and quickly guided him towards the RV, where her pack was. She was relieved to see Dale appear around the vehicle, but there was a grim expression on his face.

"That was Sophia," he said nervously before looking down at T-Dog. "What the hell happened?"

"I wasn't bit, if that's what you're askin'," the big guy said harshly. He was paling quickly with blood loss.

Dale didn't care at that moment. "Get him in the RV. I'll get something to wrap it up in."

"I've got stuff in my pack we can use," Marlie assured and brought it in once T-Dog was situated inside the RV, which had the corpse of a smelly walker inside, its left eye having been stabbed out.

"Andrea," Dale informed.

Marlie nodded and quickly forgot about the dead undead. "Can you take care of him? I need to go see what's going on."

Before he could respond, Marlie had already disappeared out the door. "Report back!" he shouted.

Sophia's scream, she thought repeatedly. Marlie prayed that the little girl was unharmed and safe and had only been spooked or something. Too bad the gods weren't listening to any prayers that day.

Marlie ran—literally—into Daryl a few moments later. She bounced back with a start before gaining back her composure. "What happened?" she asked worriedly, her heart still racing.

Alongside one car stood Lori, a sobbing Carol, Carl, and Rick. Their expressions were not happy ones.

The officer wiped away the sweat on his brow and put a hand on his dirtied white hip. "It's Sophia. We lost her in the woods."

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><p>What better way to start season two than with a cliffhanger? Haha, I couldn't help it, honestly. And to add to the torture, chapter 2 won't be up until Monday. Bear with me, please! And enjoy Sunday's episode, just like I'll be doing! As always, comments are forever smiled upon and greatly appreciated. :)<p> 


	3. Ears Open Always

I'm so sorry for the delay! Like I mentioned before, I couldn't upload anything yesterday because of an 8-hour drive I had to partake in and then _The Walking Dead_ was on last night (which I cried during). But I've been very busy today getting caught up with writing. So here you go, TWO WHOLE CHAPTERS! Woohoo! Read on, enjoy, comment comment comment, and oh yeah, COMMENT. :)

DISCLAIMER: _TWD_ is not mine; I'm not profiting off writing this stuff.

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><p><em>Necessary Knowledge to Survive a Zombie Apocalypse<em>

Chapter Two: Ears Open Always

The ground squished softly beneath the trio's feet as they made their way around maples and vine-covered bushes. It was hot enough on the highway, but inside the forest, it was a muggy hell. The bugs weren't much help, either.

To make matters worse, there was a stomach rumbling ferociously, and its owner hoped that nobody else could hear it.

Marlie hadn't bothered to grab a granola bar or a pop tart that Daryl had found back on the blocked freeway; that food was for Sophia and Carl before it went to anyone else. And that had been Marlie's plan—feed the little ones and _then_ feed herself. But the walker horde that appeared so very suddenly put a stop to the food-picking and the goods that she had found were scattered across the ground when she hit the deck to avoid the geeks' many eyes.

Now she was joining Rick and Daryl, much to the latter's disapproval, in search of Sophia.

The little girl had hid beneath some brush along a gargling stream that cut through the forest, ordered by Rick himself to stay put while he led the walkers away, the creatures that had been pursuing her.

But Sophia was nowhere to be found. Her tracks were all that were left and they weren't even going the right way, towards the highway. Instead, they took off in the opposite direction.

So that was there mission now—find Sophia and bring her back to her terrified mother, Carol.

A crunching of leaves up ahead sent the threesome to their knees, crouched and ready to kill anything that wasn't living.

Much to Marlie's excitement, Rick had given her a gun. A black nine millimeter, something of a cliché really, but it had better range than her twelve-inch Browning knife. Granted, Marlie adored her blade more than was healthy, but a gun was a pleasant upgrade, especially since she was skilled with one; her father had taken her to a shooting range many times during childhood. She just prayed she'd never have to use the damn thing.

Still, when the ground rustled a short ways ahead, Marlie had her new firearm up and ready to obliterate any geek she crossed paths with.

Rick pointed forward and scooted up a little, until the head of a walker was visible just beyond the slope they were crouched upon.

In an act surely meant to impress Marlie, Daryl used silly mock-military hand motions to direct the other two. Rick split off the right, Daryl and Marlie to the left. She wasn't sure what the real plan was, but obediently followed close to the hunter anyway.

With silent steps, she trailed off down the hill, positioning herself several yards behind the walker, while Rick grabbed its attention from the front.

The ugly son of a bitch let out an animalistic roar before an arrow cut through the air and lodged itself in the sucker's right eye.

"Bull's eye," Marlie smirked as she watched Daryl pull free his arrow, creating a sickening squirt sound as blood sprayed momentarily from the wound.

But then it was Rick's turn to get gross. Kneeling beside the walker, he slapped a pair of gloves that had been tucked away in his back pocket and began analyzing the creature's hands.

Marlie's brows furrowed. "What are you doing?" she asked with a cringe. The stench was bad enough, but now the officer was actually touching it, holding the ugly's hand.

"Lookin' for skin under the fingernails."

Impressive, Marlie thought. She would have never figured to do such an act. "Anything?"

Rick shook his head and rolled the corpse over.

"But it certainly ate recently." Daryl reloaded his crossbow and looked around. "Sophia!" he yelled. "Sophia!"

"Ugh," Marlie groaned, watching deputy bury his gloved fingers into the walker's mouth. It was difficult to watch. She'd seen hundred of walking dead and even more actual dead, but Marlie never made it a habit to give one a manicure or teeth cleaning.

"There's skin stuck between its teeth."

Marlie rolled her eyes disgustedly. "Of course there is," she mumbled facetiously and cocked a brow at Daryl.

He shrugged, not having anything to really say about what Rick was doing, but knowing that it had to be done anyway. "What kinda skin?"

"Only one way to find out," replied Rick, his own face distorting at the thought of was he had to do next.

Putting one black-gloved hand to her nose, Marlie prepared herself for what was to come, as Rick ripped open the dead thing's shirt.

"Lemme do it," Daryl volunteered, standing over the geek readily. "How many kills you skin and gut anyway?"

Rick simply raised his brows and took a step back, offering the gutting job to Daryl.

"Marlie?"

She looked up at Daryl, still covering part of her face.

"Can I, uh…?"

Immediately, the young woman sighed and her shoulders slumped. "What's wrong with yours?" she asked through her hand, afraid of the smell that was surely wafting about.

"Huh?" Daryl asked.

Lowering her hand and ignoring any odors coming through her nostrils, Marlie repeated her question with impatience.

"Mine's not as sharp," retorted Daryl. "I spend more time killing and less time showing it off, like some people." His tone was jocular, a tribute to his asshole attitude.

Marlie looked at him with irritation. "Yeah? I beg to differ. I mean, after all, I did a pretty good job with that buck. You remember him, don't you?" She knew exactly what to say to set Daryl off—the moment she so much as _thought_ about the deer she had chased down several days before, Daryl lost it.

"Oh, you had to bring up that _fucking deer_ _again!_"

"Hey, hey," shouted Rick, his arms going up in a stop-sign manner. "I don't mean to interrupt your engaging deer conversation, but we're out here for a reason, and it ain't to bicker. Got it?"

Sighing, Marlie nodded, but continued to eye Daryl. She'd won the fight, like she did every time she brought up the deer.

"Now Marlie, would give him your knife, please? I promise, he'll give it back." Rick nodded once at her, waiting.

"Yeah, fine." She really hated having to dirty her knife more than necessary and now Daryl wanted to gut a walker with it. Did she really have a choice? If it was going to keep the hope that Sophia had not been eaten by the gross bastard lying on the ground, then so be it. Reluctantly, Marlie unsheathed her blade and handed it to the hunter.

He smirked slyly, with obvious amusement as he took the weapon.

Why did she get the feeling that Daryl was going to enjoy covering her knife with walker innards?

Perhaps it was the way he went to town on the corpse, sawing skillfully into the abdomen, severing flesh, muscle, and the organs beneath. Blood was everywhere, especially all over Marlie's knife.

At one point, Daryl went so far as to glance over at her, a sparkle in his eye as he kept slicing noisily through geek.

The smell that erupted from the dead undead was literally painful. It bit at the inside of their noses and stung the back of their throats. Marlie would have worn sour milk or rotting eggs as perfume rather than smell what she was sniffing them. Hell, the raccoon that was rotting beneath the cabin she had been hiding out in was preferable.

But it got worse.

"Here comes the bad part," Daryl mumbled, pushing Marlie's knife into the ground beside him.

She growled and watched as the hunter began digging around inside in search of any piece of Sophia.

Gut-wrenching noises played hell with Marlie's ears and she had begun to regret wanting to join this search party. But one extra person increased the chances of finding the little girl, so of course she'd come. Still, she'd never seen what she was looking at then and it was, _by far_, the sickest thing her eyes had ever been unlucky enough to view.

"Well?" Marlie asked, her fingers crossed, praying that there were no signs of Sophia.

Daryl didn't answer her question. He just kept digging and squishing his gloved fingers around, turning this walker inside out. Handfuls of unknown organs were yanked out and tossed aside, but he kept diving back in.

Again, Marlie rolled her eyes. Not necessarily at the body before her, but more for the Daryl's lack of response. Marlie could tell that he was angry with her for coming along. It was evident in the way he held his shoulders a little more stiffly than usual, or how he looked at Marlie like she was weighing him down or something.

Finally, Daryl grabbed hold of what he was looking for and pulled it out with both hands, plopping it down beside Rick.

"I got this," the deputy said assertively.

All the while, Marlie kept watch on her surroundings, her ears attuned to every sound, her eyes open and observant to each tree, bush and log. If something was out of the ordinary, or didn't quite fit in with the rest, then she'd be the first to know about it. For a moment, however, her attention was drawn to the rotting stomach lying on the ground like a dead cat. Marlie flinched when Rick's own blade dove straight into the stinking flesh. How much longer were they going to rip this geek apart? It was almost becoming sacrilegious.

Daryl partook in the stomach raiding and snorted when he pulled out a small, nearly complete skull stuck to the end of Marlie's blade.

"Oh my god," she said, not with disgust, but more with surprise than anything else.

Twirling the knife around to get a full three-sixty on the skull, Daryl noted, "This gross bastard had himself a woodchuck for lunch."

"Or a beaver."

Rick and Daryl looked over at the woman, brows perked and curious expressions on their faces.

Her cheeks flushed. "What? Not a beaver? Not even a small one?"

Neither of the men knew what to say.

Marlie frowned. "Alright, fine. Woodchuck." She looked away shyly. It was possible that the skull was a beaver's, but obviously that wasn't really a concern for anyone. Her stomach chose that inopportune moment to rumble emptily.

"What was that?" Rick asked, brows furrowed as he looked over in Marlie's direction.

Again, her cheeks went red.

"When was the last time you ate?"

Marlie glanced at the deputy. "Dinner at the CDC. So not too long ago."

Rick sighed. "Eat somethin' when we get back, you hear?"

Nodding, Marlie looked back at the rotting corpse. "At least we know."

"At least we know," agreed Rick, followed by a nod from Daryl.

"But Carol isn't going to be too happy." And Marlie was right.

No one was, in the least, glad that they returned empty-handed. All everybody wanted was to have hard evidence to suggest her still being alive.

"We lost her trail, but we'll pick it up again in the morning," Rick offered.

Carol was crushed, though. "You can't leave me daughter out there, to sleep on her own, in the dark." Her throat was choked with the onslaught of terrified tears. Somewhere out in the darkening woods was her daughter and that thought alone was enough to kill any mother from the inside.

Marlie frowned deeply. She had never been a mom and she honestly never wanted to be, but she did well with children and very much liked Sophia, the strong little girl of the group who rarely ever seemed afraid. Marlie wanted her back as much as anyone else, but the fact was, darkness was falling and a search would be impossible. "We'd be tripping over ourselves in the dark," she said sadly.

Frantically, Carol retorted, "But she's only twelve. You're telling me you didn't find anything?"

Rick frowned, but tried to calm the woman down. "I know this is hard, but I'm askin' you not to panic. We know she's out there."

"We tracked her for a while," Daryl mentioned positively.

Marlie nodded hopefully. "We're not giving up, Carol. I promise." She placed a gentle hand on the older woman's shoulder and gave her a small smile.

Slouching, Carol shook her head sadly. When she brought her light eyes back up, she noticed red stains on Marlie's side and fingers. "Is that blood?" Carol asked shakily, pointing.

Marlie stepped back and looked herself over. Damn her for not bothering to clean herself off a little before returned, although Daryl and Rick didn't look much better.

"We took down a walker," Rick said.

"Walker," Carol repeated nervously, fidgeting.

"But it hadn't been anywhere near Sophia." Marlie's tone was optimistic.

Andrea stepped forward. "How can you know that?"

"We gut the son of a bitch open," Daryl answered swiftly and honestly.

Tiredly and breathing deeply, Carol sat on the highway's metal railing with Lori holding onto her shoulder for comfort and support. "How could you just leave her like that? Why would do you leave?"

Rick shook head. "I had to. There were two walkers on us and I…I had to draw 'em off."

"Sounds like he didn't have a choice, Carol," said Shane quietly.

"We did everything we could. We really did." Marlie wiped several beads of sweat off her nose with the back of her wrist, careful not to get walker blood from her hands, which had been all over her bloody knife, on her face.

Carol didn't care. There was nothing to help her at the moment. "She's just a child. She's just a child," she repeated sadly, rocking back and forth.

It was difficult to watch and Marlie turned away, catching sight of Daryl, who looked genuinely concerned for Sophia. Marlie wanted to be beside him, wanted him to tell her that everything was going to be okay and that they'd find Sophia alive and well. But she couldn't go to him because she didn't want to see his face when she asked him to tell her those things. There was a chance that they'd never find Sophia and Marlie didn't want to think like that or see Daryl's worried expression.

"My little girl is lost in the woods," Carol said finally.

And suddenly, the day just got a whole lot shittier.

TWDTWDTWD

"You gonna eat those?" Daryl asked, coming up behind Marlie as she pulled out a box of stale Goldfish from an abandoned car.

She shook her head. "They're for Carol. And Carl, too."

Daryl sighed heavily at the woman's refusal to do anything until she knew everyone else was taken care of. "You need to eat somethin'. Carol and Carl at least got breakfast this morning."

"Well, I'm not the only one going hungry. You were with me all night, remember? You missed out on breakfast, too."

"Yeah, I remember," he said, smiling slightly. That night had been wonderful. Too bad it had to give way to a horrible day. "But I want you to eat _now_. Shove some of those things in your mouth and I'll be happy."

Marlie smirked. "Sure thing, _mom_." And then a handful of Goldfish went into her mouth. The cheesy taste tickled her tongue and caused her stomach to let out a ferocious growl. She shook her head at the noise.

"Good," Daryl said pleasantly, knowing that Marlie would at least have a little bit settled in her stomach.

Nodding, she handed the box to the hunter. "Now you're turn."

"No. I'm fine."

"Shove some into your mouth and I'll be happy," she mimicked and waited until the ensuing staring contest ended with Daryl reaching in for some edible fish crackers. Then with an air of sadness, Marlie departed from Daryl's presence and went to Carol, who refused her offered food. So she placed them beside the woman's feet and sat on the concrete, leaning against the railing. There wasn't anything she could say to comfort Carol, so she remained quiet and hoped that her presence alone would be enough.

TWDTWDTWD

When night came around and everyone had scavenged food in their stomachs and water in their bladders, Marlie stalked back to the caravan. There was no real place to sleep since the RV's inside was already taken up by Andrea and Glenn. So she planned on finding a comfortable spot in the cold, hard asphalt or in one of the many vehicles scattered about. But before she could pick a place, Dale hurried up beside her, binoculars swing around his neck. Marlie sent a pleasant smile his way.

He smiled back and asked, "Have you figured out a place to sleep yet?"

"I was just looking for one, actually."

"Well, you're welcome to go up on the RV," he offered kindly.

Marlie shook her head. "No, that's your spot. You take it. But thank you." She continued walking until Dale intercepted her path. Now she was just getting bored. Sleep was on her brain right then, not conversing with Dale.

"I'll be awake anyway. Night watch," he informed. "And I can keep an eye out on top of any other car out there. Trust me."

Sighing and with little strength to fight with the stubborn old man, Marlie nodded reluctantly. "Fine," she said, shaking her head with a silly little smile, actually very grateful for the offer. "But only if you're sure, because I can just—"

"I'm sure," Dale promised with a smile.

When he didn't leave her be then, Marlie perked a brown brow. "But there's more."

He hesitated before nodding. "Daryl."

"What about him?"

"Well, it's just that…maybe it's not my place, but I don't think he's very safe. He—"

"Seriously?" Marlie snorted.

Dale nodded slightly.

"Oh, come on. So he flies off the hinges sometimes. I don't think he'd ever really hurt anyone." So he threw punches occasionally, Marlie thought. She would too if she'd been told that someone she cared about had been handcuffed to a roof.

"You don't, but everyone else believes he's dangerous."

"I'm not everyone else." Closing her eyes tiredly, Marlie rubbed her nose and sniffed.

Dale inhaled deeply and smiled kindly. "I know that. You're the first person we've come across who can actually calm the guy down."

A fact Marlie had become very proud of.

"Now, I know what goes on between you two is your business, but I'm just giving you my opinion. And I know you didn't ask for it."

"But I do appreciate it, Dale. Honestly, I do." Pushing her hands into her jean's pockets, Marlie said, "He's stuck in this hell hole like the rest of us. I think it's…I don't know…it's nice for him to know that someone can tolerate his attitude." She shrugged with a smile and yawned.

Dale would keep that in mind the next time he had opinion about Daryl. Sighing, he said, "Alright, well I'll let you get to sleep. And thanks, by the way."

"For what?"

"For looking for Sophia today."

Solemnly, Marlie nodded before heading towards the RV. But she took a quick detour out of Dale's sight. She found Daryl a few moments later gathering supplies out of an old SUV.

He jumped when her hand met his shoulder. "Jesus!" he cursed when he saw that it was only Marlie.

She apologized and said, "I found a place to sleep and it's not the ground or in one these lovely vehicles."

"Oh yeah?" Daryl wondered, still digging around in the SUV's trunk.

"Dale gave me the whole top of the RV for the night. There's room for two, if you haven't found another place yet."

Turning around, Daryl eyed the RV a hundred yards down the highway before returning his gaze back to Marlie.

They were climbing up the metal ladder on the side of the RV a few minutes later, stretching out on the hard metal high above the ground once they were situated beneath the large umbrella that Dale had up there.

"You know, I thought you'd be mad at me."

Marlie's brows furrowed as she looked up at the orange sky. "Why?" Then she realized what he was talking about. "Wait, do you mean that stunt you pulled during the horde?"

The hunter said nothing.

"How could I be mad? I was scared, but not mad."

"Really?" he asked, his head resting on his arms as he, too, eyed the sky.

"You were going to help T-Dog. You _did_ help him. I would never be angry about that." She paused for a moment before adding something else. "But then you had a dead walker lying over you and before I could even gather what was happening, you took off. _That_ was not nice."

Daryl smirked, but frowned immediately afterwards. "I had to see if Sophia was okay, but I didn't make it in time. No one did."

Quietly, Marlie rolled over away from Daryl, to be alone with her thoughts. Poor Sophia was alone in the woods, sleeping god knew where, with geeks wandering around.

Chances are, no one would be able to pass out for the night with the girl on their minds.

Marlie heard the man beside her scooting closer and she couldn't help but feel better when he laced his arm threw hers, keeping her close.

His mouth was beside Marlie's ear when he spoke. "We'll find her."

"Tell that to Carol," Marlie whispered sadly.

"I did. Now I'm tellin' you."

She sighed with a heavy heart. "I hope she's safe."

"We'll look again in the mornin'. Try to get some sleep."

Sleep sounded so good at the moment, and as much as she wanted to, Marlie was sure it wouldn't happen. But with Daryl beside her, keeping her safe, she did manage to drift away. She wished for pleasant dreams, but received nothing but horror, screams, and walkers.

TWDTWDTWD

The group met up the next morning around the RV, a case of melee weapons laid out on the hood of a nearby car.

"Where are the real weapons?" Andrea asked with irritation. "The guns?"

Marlie immediately gulped, feeling the nine mill sticking out of the back of her pants.

"Rick and I are the only ones who'll be carryin'. We can't have everyone getting' trigger happy when the wind rustles," Shane said coolly.

Andrea huffed and threw her hands to her waist. "Oh yeah?" She turned her threatening gaze to Marlie. "Then why does _she_ get a gun?"

Everyone looked at the younger woman, questioningly. It was obvious that no one else had known that she'd been given a firearm.

"Where the hell did you get a gun?" Shane asked roughly.

Hating the unwanted attention on her, Marlie's heart began to pump loudly. Gently, she removed the gun from her pants and returned it to Rick.

"It was given to her while we were out trackin' Sophia," Daryl commented beside the young woman in an attempt to diffuse the situation and comfort her a little.

"I gave it to her," Rick added, shoving the returned weapon in his own jeans. "But she doesn't have it anymore, so everyone just calm down."

Andrea put up a fuss. "Calm down? Why'd you give her a gun, but no one else? We've all been here longer than she has. If anything, she should be the _last_ person you give a gun to," she snapped.

"Hey, I gave it back, alright?" Marlie said angrily, disliking the way she was suddenly being treated by the blonde.

Dale put his hands up between the two women. "That's right, Andrea. She doesn't have one anymore. Let Rick and Shane handle the guns."

Marlie respected Dale for the way he stood up for people—even though she could handle herself—and how he always wanted to keep the peace. It worked, this time.

Feeling better that Marlie no longer had the weapon, Shane continued. "Say someone fires at the wrong moment and a herd's passin' through. See, then everyone dies. So you need to get over it."

And with that, the gun conversation was over, so Daryl began a new one in its place. "The creek's our best option," he advised. "We follow it up to where Sophia was last seen and go from there."

"Alright, everyone, grab a weapon. We head out in ten."

Nodding, the group obeyed Rick and took a weapon from the cache that Carl had managed to stumble upon earlier that day, before departing a short while later into the forest, while T-Dog and Dale stayed behind to repair the busted RV.

For a long time, there was nothing for the group to go on. No Sophia, a bunch of misguiding tracks, a suicidal dead guy in a tent, and no signs of life anywhere. But then there were bells.

Church bells.

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><p>Cliffhanger, but the other chapter is on its way shortly!<p> 


	4. Safety in Numbers

And here's y'all go! Finally, I'm finished with that episode. Phew. It's about time!

DISCLAIMER: _The Walking Dead_ IS NOT MINE, as I have said so many times before. Just thought I'd let everyone know _again_.

* * *

><p><em>Necessary Knowledge to Survive a Zombie Apocalypse<em>

Chapter Three: Safer in Numbers

"Someone could be signaling for help," Andrea said hopefully.

"Sophia could be ringin' those bells herself," announced Rick with a flicker of hope in his voice before hurrying towards the sound, closely followed by the rest of the group.

Sure enough, there was a church to go along with the bells, positioned in a cozy green field in the middle of the woods.

"Cute," Daryl noted sarcastically as he and the others made their way to the front of the church.

When Rick pushed open the quaint wooden doors, Marlie couldn't help but snort at the sight before them. "Religious walkers," she said. "Who knew?"

Three uglies sat in the pews, eyes forward towards the large Jesus statue hanging on a cross at the front. But at the sound of newcomers, they craned their necks and snarled at the living group of people at the doorway.

They were dropped quickly and quietly. One took on Rick's blade and lost; another fell once Marlie's own knife was chucked into its face; the third's attention was focused on Daryl before he cut a deep gash through its head.

"How were there bells ringing?" Marlie wondered aloud, searching for the source.

"There's no steeple," added Shane.

And just as he finished his sentence, the bells sounded again, sending everyone out of the small building and searching the surrounding area for a source.

Daryl took the lead and frowned when he found where the sound had been coming from. "It's a goddamn speaker," he spat, pointing up at the white siren-looking speaker under the church's eaves.

Glenn hurried forward to a little fuse box and yanked the battery out, silencing the bells.

"It was on a timer," Marlie informed. "No one was ringing them." Her voice fell.

Carol turned away then. "I'm gonna go back in for a bit," she announced sadly and disappeared along with everyone but Shane, Lori and Andrea, who was leaned against the side of the church solemnly.

Meanwhile, Marlie hung back inside and sat down on a smooth wooden pew halfway down the aisle. She was, in no sense, religious. She went to church every Sunday was she was little girl, but after she turned fourteen, the divorce happened and her mother stopped going. Any bit of religion Marlie had was long gone.

But being the church now felt nice. It reminded her of times long ago when she was apart of a complete and happy family. Mom, dad, brother, the whole shebang. The dead stayed dead and there were no monsters lurking everywhere. Times had changed, though. Everything was different and sad and stressful. Marlie had hope, however, that things would change for the better or that things would at least stop getting worse. So far, she'd seen people change and she, herself, had changed. That was a start, Marlie realized.

Up at the front of the church, much closer to the hanging Christ, kneeled Carol. Her slim form looked so much frailer to Marlie than it ever had. But there was still some residing strength left in her shoulders as she prayed.

"Father, forgive me," the older woman began, kneeled before the statue. "I don't deserve your mercy. I prayed for safe passage from Atlanta and you provided. Prayed for Ed to be punished for laying his hands on me and…" She hesitated and glanced at the floor, her hands clasped in front of her. "And for lookin' at his own daughter. Whatever sickness was growin' in his soul, I prayed you'd put a stop to it."

Marlie's head lowered. She hadn't prayed in a long time, but she was praying now.

"Give me a chance to raise a right," Carol continued, tears steadily growing thicker in her pale blue eyes. "Help her not make my mistakes. She's so fearful. She's so young in her way. She hasn't had a chance."

And as Carol went on, a stone settled heavily in Marlie's heart. Heavier than she had felt yet. There were tears filling her own eyes and she tried to blink them away, but they just fell onto her lap, creating dark little spots in her jeans.

"Praying for Ed's death was a sin. Please, don't let this be my punishment. Let her be safe. Alive and safe. Please, Lord. Punish me however you want. But show mercy on her. Show mercy on my little girl." Carol sniffled and rose carefully from her position before the cross to sit beside Lori on the front pew.

But Marlie couldn't remain in the church any longer. She left once Carol was finished and found herself leaning against the tall tree planted out front. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, her arms cross over them.

Rick accompanied her a short time later, squatting down in front of her with the black nine mill held outwards.

"Take it," he commanded gently, blocking the gun from Shane and Andrea's view.

Marlie refused. "It's yours and I've got this," she said, patting the knife on her hip.

"It won't be enough if you come across one too many walkers."

Frowning, Marlie looked past the officer's shoulder towards Andrea.

"Don't worry about her. I make the rules. Besides, I'd feel a lot more comfortably if you had gun as opposed to Andrea."

For a moment, Marlie continued to refuse, but eventually took the offered weapon with reluctance, tucking it back into her pants.

Rick nodded before joining Lori who had just appeared from the church.

A minute later, Marlie felt Daryl sit beside her before she saw him. Without looking, she said quietly, "I never wanted to stay here. With you guys. I wanted to fill my stomach, get a good night's rest and then leave in the morning. I never wanted to stick around."

"Then why did you?"

She scoffed. "You know why, Daryl. The moment you left to go search for Merle, I didn't want to go anywhere until I knew you were safe." Marlie pushed a lock of curls behind her pierced ear before going on. "And then when you came back, I didn't want to go anywhere without you. I just…I don't know…I just couldn't leave."

"I'm confused."

Marlie looked over at him.

"I thought stayin' had been a good thing for you, but your tone begs to differ."

Shaking her head, her gaze left Daryl's and landed on Shane, who was talking tensely to a blonde Andrea. "I'm glad I stayed, Daryl. Safety in numbers. But it's reasons like _this_ that remind me why I walked alone for so long." She motioned at Carol who was exiting the church with Lori beside her. "The constant threat of losing your friends, it's…well it sucks."

Daryl chewed on the inside of his lip, his mind working up an answer. "That's the sacrifice of carin' for people. You can make friends easy enough, but losin' 'em is something you gotta learn to deal with."

She couldn't help the smile that formed on her lips then. Who knew that Daryl had such wisdom built up inside? But Marlie realized that he was thinking of Merle then, and it broke her heart even more. "There's still hope for him, you know. Just like with Sophia." In a turn of the tables, Marlie began to comfort Daryl. She jumped up and stood before him, blocking the sun from his denim eyes. Her leather-covered hand reached out to him and she smiled when he grabbed it.

He was hoisted up a moment later and dusted his pants before noticing the gun in Marlie's pants.

The young woman saw Daryl eye her piece. "Rick gave it back. Said he'd rather I had it just in case."

Daryl didn't need to be convinced. He could tell that Marlie knew a little bit about firearms and how to use them properly, so he didn't say anything more. He accompanied Marlie to join Carol and the others.

Shane cleared his throat, grabbing everyone's attention then. "Y'all need to follow the creek bed back to the RV. Daryl, you're in charge. Me and Rick are gonna stay behind for an hour or so and search the area. Just to be thorough."

"You're splittin' us up?" Daryl asked, his gaze on Rick. "You sure?"

Rick nodded. "Yeah."

"Well then I wanna stay, too, and look," demanded Carl, stepping forward. "I'm her friend."

Marlie smirked at the balls on this kid.

"Please?" the boy asked, looking up at his mother.

After a moment of deciding, she shrugged. "As long as you stay close to your father, I don't mind." She bent down and embraced Carl, shuffling up his hair and asking, "When did you start growing up?"

"Where's your other gun, Rick? To give to Lori?" Shane asked when he noticed one of his friend's weapons missing.

Lori shook her head. "I'm not leaving you unarmed."

"Then take mine," Daryl offered, handing the woman a small piece that he carried with him for backup.

All the while, Andrea looked on with a very unhappy expression.

"What about your nine mill?" Shane asked persistently.

Marlie could tell than Rick wasn't sure if he should tell him or just pass a little lie his way, so she decided for him. "He gave it back to me." She glared at Andrea who was quick to stare back, the notable look of what-the-fuck plastered on the blonde's face.

"And nobody's going to freak out about it, you hear?" Rick ordered, casting his gaze to everyone in the group, specifically Shane and Andrea.

No one objected as the group split and went their separate ways—Glenn, Andrea, Daryl, Marlie, Carol, and Lori went back into the woods while Rick and Shane stayed behind.

"So this is it? Is this the plan?" Carol asked eventually, plopping tiredly on a fallen tree, giving everyone the chance to take breather.

"She's right," commented Marlie beside her, leaning against a different tree.

Daryl shrugged. "Guess the plan is to split us up into smaller and smaller groups."

"Armed with knives and pointy sticks," Andrea added crossly. She glanced at Lori and then to Marlie. "I see you two have guns."

Marlie rolled her eyes and sighed. She had zero patience left. Removing her piece from the back of her jeans, Marlie held it out to Andrea. "Take it."

There was severe confusion and surprise on the blonde's features.

"You've been staring at Lori and I for the past hour, looking pissed and smug and I can't take it anymore. So take it." Marlie shook the weapon at her, tempting Andrea. She could feel Daryl's curious eyes on her, but she didn't turn to look.

"No," Lori intervened. "Keep yours, Marlie. She can have mine."

Brows furrowing, Marlie prepared to object, but Lori was quick to speak up again.

"Put it away. Andrea, take it."

Snatching it, Andrea obeyed and took Lori's piece, watching the other woman drop onto the log beside Carol.

"Honey," she began, looking at the short-haired lady, "I can't imagine what you're goin' through, but you have got to stop blaming Rick. I see it in your face every time you look at him."

Carol blinked with surprise, but didn't object because she knew Lori was right.

"He didn't even hesitate to go after those walkers. Not for a second. Now I don't think any one of us would have gone after her like he did. Or make the hard decisions that he had to make." Her eyes flowed over everyone in the small group, waiting for a response, or denial, or anything. "Anybody?"

But no one said a word, because in the end, it was true. Rick had done more for the group in the past day than anyone had done in an entire week. No one would deny that or wrong his choices.

Lori looked away then. "You all look to him and then blame him when he's not perfect. You think you can do this without him, go right ahead. Nobody is stoppin' you."

In an act of respect and kindness, Andrea returned the gun back to Lori, who took it without question.

"We should keep moving," Andrea suggested quietly.

Suddenly, Marlie's dislike for Andrea lessened as she followed her and the others further through the forest. When Daryl's hand touched her arm reassuringly, Marlie took it and kissed it softly.

Lori was right—nobody was perfect. But it's the imperfections that make people who they are.

Marlie respected that, respected _Lori_, respected Rick for his heroism, Daryl for his comfort, Carol for her honestly, Shane for his willingness to make tough decisions, Glenn for his quietness, Dale for his understanding, T-Dog for his caring, Sophia for her strength, and Carl for his bravery.

This is was Marlie's family, and that was all she really needed. Her job now was to protect it. Her new purpose lifted her weighted heart a little.

But it quickly sank at the sound of a single gunshot.

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><p>To be continued...TOMORROW! Comments, anyone? They keep me going, so they're greatly appreciated!<p> 


	5. Use Your Imagination, Sometimes

Alas, all ye readers! Another chapter for yer enjoyment. Okay, I'm gonna knock off the pirate accent now before I hurt myself. Anyway, here ye be...I mean, here you go! I hope y'all like it! And just to let you guys know, I wrote this despite a hellacious migraine pounding behind my eyeballs, but it's cuz I love you all so much that I suffered through it and produced a halfway decent chapter. So please enjoy! :)

DISCLAIMER: I do not own _The Walking Dead_. Sad, I know.

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><p><em>Necessary Knowledge to Survive a Zombie Apocalypse<em>

Chapter Four: Use Your Imagination…Sometimes

Her imagination was running wild. It was bad enough when her brain created terrifying illusions of walkers hidden behind the trees, but now it was sending Marlie into an anxious fit. Her palms were sweating beneath the black leather gloves while her brain overworked itself. But she had a right to be nervous, Marlie soon realized, and to just continue on through the woods as though nothing had happened was wrong. "Does nobody else care about what we heard back there?" she asked, stopping beside a tall maple.

Andrea looked over her shoulder. "Are you still worried about that?"

Noting the blonde's careless tone, Marlie nodded. "Yes, I'm still worried about it. It was a _gunshot_. Where'd it come from?" She shrugged and looked at Daryl, the group's newest leader. "Is anybody else wondering the same thing?"

"Marlie's right. We all heard it," announced the hunter, his crossbow held tightly in his hands.

"Why was it only one shot?" asked Lori, thinking aloud. "Why just one?"

"Maybe they took down a walker?" Daryl guessed.

Marlie shook her head, along with Lori. "He would have taken it down quietly," the younger woman said. "Rick wouldn't draw attention to them by firing a gun. Right?"

"Right," agreed Lori. "So please don't patronize me, Daryl."

He shifted under Lori's stern gaze and looked away. "There's nothin' we can do about it anyway," he said nonchalantly. "Can't go around these woods chasin' echoes."

"Then what do you suggest we do?" asked Lori, sparking attitude.

Marlie noticed her impatience towards everything right at the beginning of their trek. The older woman had a snappy way of being stern and Marlie wasn't too fond of it. Still, she kept her mouth shut about the way Lori acted. After all, she had a right to be stressed and angry when her husband and son were away from her, sifting through a walker-infested world in search of Sophia.

Yeah, Lori definitely had a reason to be snippy.

Taking up his role as leader, Daryl asserted, "Same thing as before. Beat the bush for Sophia and then work our way back to the highway."

The group understood and began to continue onward, but Marlie noticed Andrea and Carol lingering behind. It was obvious that he latter was feeling the effects of another failed search for her missing daughter. Marlie could see it in the deep stress lines in the older woman's forehead and the slumped shoulders, heavy with affliction.

Andrea's voice halted the group again. "I'm sorry about what you're going through. I know how you feel."

"I suppose you do," said Carol solemnly. "Thank you. It's just the thought of my little girl out here, by herself. It's killin' me." There were tears forming in her pale eyes again. "I just keep hopin' and prayin' that she don't wind up like Amy."

Marlie blinked at Carol's statement, surprised at the woman's audacity.

It was obvious that Andrea was feeling the same way. Her head tilted slightly and she looked at her feet.

Carol realized her choice of words too late. "Oh god," she whispered. "That's the worse thing I've ever said." She stepped towards Andrea, guilt lacing her expression.

Sighing, the blonde woman ignored how bad the comment had been and said, "We're all hopin' and prayin' with you, for what it's worth."

"I'll tell you what it's worth," Daryl began, hurrying towards the pair. "It's worth absolutely nothin'. All this hopin' and prayin'."

Marlie looked on, anticipating some rude remark that would force her into action against the hunter. Already, she took a precautionary step towards him, ready to stop him from hurting Carol's feeling even more than they already were.

But she didn't have to worry; Daryl wasn't being insensitive and the proof of that came a moment later.

"We're gonna locate that little girl. She's gonna be just fine." The conviction in his tone was entirely believable.

And just then, Carol had all the convincing she needed to know that her daughter would be found.

"Isn't anyone Zen around here? Good Lord."

Marlie smiled at Daryl's comment and patted his dirt-covered arm as he walked by. "Zen?" she whispered with a light giggle to Carol when the hunter was out of earshot.

The older woman smiled and followed the rest of the group towards the highway.

But it didn't take long for the Georgian sun to begin set on the forest and the Sophia search had to come to an end.

"We'll be losin' light soon," informed Daryl, glancing up at the treetops that filtered much of the sunlight and cast the area in a dim glow. "I think we should call it."

Of all people, Carol was the first to agree. "Then lets head back," she said, much to everyone's surprise. "We'll look again tomorrow."

"Yeah, we'll _find_ her tomorrow," Lori encouraged, giving Carol a stern stare that told her there was no other option.

"Now there's the Zen I was talkin' about." Daryl smirked and headed off again, Marlie smiling and following close to his heels.

"That was nice of you to say what you did to Carol." She shrugged and pushed her hands into her pockets. "She really needed that."

Daryl sniffed and nodded. "What else was I gonna say? The woman needs to hear those things."

"We all do."

"Yeah, guess we do."

A long silence passed between the two, giving them both time to take in the sights and sounds of the woods. Mourning doves hooted off in the distance while a squirrel skittered up a nearby tree, shuffling leaves and creaking branches along the way. The ground was thick with natural debris and detritus, but there had been little rain in the past several days, so their steps fell noisily beneath their booted feet.

Finally, Marlie broke the quietness when she was far enough away from Carol and the others behind her. "Do you think we'll actually find her?"

Daryl sighed and chewed on his bottom lip nonchalantly. He thought for a moment, debating whether or not he really did believe that they'd find the little girl. "Yes," he eventually replied. "I think we will."

"Alive?"

He wasn't so sure about that one. Would they find Sophia? Possibly. Would she be dead or worse, a walker? Probably.

Carol spoke up before he could answer, though. "How much farther?"

Grateful to not have to answer Marlie's last question, he responded, "A hundred yards, as the crow flies."

Marlie didn't like that he chose to not continue the conversation about Sophia. It was enough evidence to tell her that Daryl wasn't so sure they'd find the girl alive and well. It saddened Marlie.

"Well it's too bad we aren't crows," Andrea said, slightly out of breath from having to climb over logs and bushes and vines. Fuck the forest, for all she cared.

"Flying would be fun, but I'd really hate to have to eat dead things." Marlie mentally slapped herself for her poor choice of words right then. Eat dead things? Like a walker? Idiot, she mused.

Luckily, Glenn either didn't notice or he understood that the touchy sentence had been unintentional. "Burgers are dead things."

Marlie cringed and stuck her tongue out.

"What? They are. Same for bacon and—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Marlie said, purposely cutting the young man off. "But vegetarians prefer _not_ to eat meat."

"You're a vegetarian?" Daryl asked, surprise and mockery evident in his tone as he spun around and walked backwards.

Marlie rolled her eyes. "Yep, and damn proud of it, too."

He laughed out loud, a very pleasant sound. "I could never understand why someone would choose carrots over steak."

"I don't like carrots."

Daryl rolled his eyes and faced forward again, while the others in the group giggled at the light banter.

But the laughter was cut off by Andrea's scream and cries, which sent them all on full alert as everyone frantically searched for the woman who had seemed to have wondered off a little ways.

"Andrea!" shouted Daryl, crossbow raised.

Marlie's heart was racing as she unsheathed her blade and hurried ahead towards where Andrea's voice had been coming from. Once more, her imagination was getting the best of her. Images of Andrea getting torn apart by walkers flashed behind her eyeballs. "Damn it," she curse under her breath, more to herself than anyone else in an attempt to block out the projections her mind was creating.

And then her ears began to imagine things, too. It sounded like the footfalls of a horse, a galloping horse. She was entirely confused at the noise and pressed onward in search of Andrea.

Marlie found her and the geek she was fighting just as a massive brown steed appeared from the brush to her right. The young woman had to jump back to avoid getting run over. Daryl caught her shoulders as she stumbled backwards.

No one said a word, however, as an incredibly random scene took place. The younger looking woman, brunette and pretty and riding a horse, cracked a baseball bat against the ugly's skull, sending the monster off its feet.

Andrea screamed then, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Lori Grimes," the pretty woman on horseback asked, looking at the blonde on the ground.

"That's Andrea," Marlie corrected, her brows furrowed in slight irritation at the newcomer, mainly for almost running her over.

"I'm Lori."

The woman looked frantic. "You need to come with me. Rick sent me."

Lori blinked. "What?"

"You need to come with me. Carl's been shot."

Marlie's breath caught in her throat. As if losing Sophia wasn't bad enough. "Oh my god," she said under her breath. Her surprised increased when Lori nodded and dropped her pack.

"You can't get on that horse," objected Daryl.

"We don't even know who this woman is," added Marlie nervously. Everything was happening so fast that it was boggling her brain.

Completely ignoring them, the new woman commented, "Rick said you had others on the highway? That big traffic snarl?"

Glenn nodded. "Yeah."

"Backtrack two miles down the road. That's our farm; you'll see the mailbox. Name's Greene." She didn't give anybody the chance to further object; with a kick to the horse's side, Lori and the woman were disappearing through the forest, leaving everyone in utter awe.

"What the hell was that?" Marlie wondered slowly.

"Good fuckin' question," growled Daryl unhappily. The group was his temporary responsibility and he'd just lost a member to some random stranger on a horse.

The walker that had attacked Andrea began to gargle where it lay on the grass and Marlie took affirmative action. She took a step closer to the geek and raised her knife. Just as she released it into the air, Daryl's fired one of his arrows. Blade and dart reached the geek's head simultaneously.

"Shut up," Daryl mumbled, not bothering to grab his projectile.

So Marlie shook her head and did the honors of retrieving both weapons.

TWDTWDTWD

"I won't do it." Carol was shaking her head and crossing her arms as she spoke, eyeing everyone on the highway.

They'd finally rejoined Dale and T-Dog at the RV and now had to make a decision. The obvious one was to go find the farm and get to Rick and his family. The second option, one that Carol was going with, was to _not_ go to the farm and instead stay where Sophia can find them if she were to return.

"What if she comes back and we're not here?" Her head lowered. "Could happen."

Andrea turned to Dale. "If Sophia came back while we were gone, that'd be awful."

Marlie agreed and glanced over at Daryl, since he was the head of the group at the moment. "We should do something. Make a sign or something."

He mulled over some ideas mentally before nodding in agreement. "Alright. Tomorrow morning we'll rig a big sign. Leave her some supplies. I'll hold here tonight, stay with the RV."

"So will I." Marlie crossed her arms in finality.

God, there was no stopping this woman, Daryl mused. He sighed with dislike for the idea, but otherwise made no other sound.

"If the RV's stayin', I'm stayin'," assured Dale.

"Thank you." Carol smiled.

Andrea stepped forward. "Count me in."

"Well if you're all staying, then I'm—"

Dale waved up a hand. "No Glenn, you can't stay. Take Andrea's Cherokee and—"

"Why me? Why do I—"

"Glenn, listen to me," demanded Dale sternly. "You need to find that farm, reconnect with our people and see what's going on. But most importantly, you need to get T-Dog there."

"What's wrong with him?" Daryl asked, leaning over to look at the black man who sat on the RV's bumper. "Is it his arm?"

Dale nodded. "That cut's gone from bad to worse. He has a _very serious_ blood infection." Looking back at Glenn, he continued. "He needs antibiotics or he'll die. I'm serious."

Marlie sighed at the danger of losing yet _another_ member of her newfound family. She rubbed her forehead absentmindedly, watching as Daryl seemed to leave the group to go to his bike. The machine was parked between to cars and all Marlie kept thinking of was hopping on with Daryl and driving very far away. But that was just her imagination at work, projecting impossible ideas into her brain.

But Daryl didn't have plans of riding away, anyway. Instead, he dug around a satchel attached near the back and removed a large plastic baggy. Then he grabbed the dirtied rag that had somehow managed to find its way onto the motorcycle and walked back to the group. "Keep your filthy rags off my brother's bike," Daryl commented harshly, tossing the cloth at Dale.

Brother's bike? Marlie wondered. She remembered Daryl telling her several days ago that he'd _earned_ the bike. Sounded more like stealing from family to her now.

The hunter proceeded to plop the baggy onto a car's hood, revealing half a dozen bottles of prescription drugs. "Why'd you wait so long to say anything? I got my brother's stash."

Marlie's eyes widened at the sight before her eyes.

"Crystal, some kickass pain killers." Daryl tossed a big pill bottle at Glenn. "And here's doxycycline and not the generic stuff, either." He launched another bottle at Dale, who caught it graciously.

"Holy shit," Marlie whispered, her gaze flowing over the various bottles. Vicodin, ecstasy, Adderall. How had she not known? Because Daryl hadn't chosen to not tell her, she realized.

There were judgmental, surprised looks coming from everyone in the group then, but they all had to be shrugged off. There were things to be done. Dale smiled as he hurried over to a sickly T-Dog while Glenn understood that it was his time to head off.

"Another day in paradise, huh?" Marlie nudged Daryl as he was packing up the bottles. Carl was apparently shot; Lori disappeared with a strange woman on horseback; T-Dog wasn't doing too well; the group was getting split. "God damn end of the world," she mumbled, shaking her head.

"Damn right," he agreed.

* * *

><p>Daryl, brother of a drug lord. I can see it. Stay tuned for another chapter tomorrow!<p> 


	6. Don't Forget to Smile

Sorry for the delay! I ended up being busier than expected yesterday and then "Psych" came on and I just ran out of minutes in the day. I'm going to try to put up a chapter a day, maybe more, but if I miss a day, I do apologize ahead of time. I hope this one makes up for yesterday, though! Read on and enjoy, comment, be happy, etc.

DISCLAIMER: _The Walking Dead_ does not, has never, will ever belong to be me.

* * *

><p><em>Necessary Knowledge to Survive a Zombie Apocalypse<em>

Chapter Five: Don't Forget to Smile

Night settled heavily over the deserted highway, and there was no moon of which to be comforted by. No stars, either. Just a dark sky and a lifeless road. There was a cool wind blowing over from the east and it crept into the open back window of the RV parked in the middle of the traffic jam.

There was a woman sobbing on the bed while a man rested on the floor, smack dab in the middle of the hefty vehicle. A third woman was piecing together a small firearm that she had taken apart herself and a forth was sitting beside the crying lady's bed. All the while, an older gentleman stood watch above, a rifle slung over his shoulder and binoculars on his chest.

"We'll find her, hun. I promise we will." Patting the older woman's shaking shoulder, Marlie rubbed her eyes sleepily. As much as she wanted to rest her head for a few minutes—seeing Daryl lying down made her jealous—Marlie knew that comforting Carol was probably more important.

"She's out there alone," the woman sobbed, hiccupping.

"I'm sorry," was all Marlie could say back. She rubbed Carol's arm kindly and rested her cheek in her gloved palm.

Daryl stood up then, a tired look on his face. He obviously hadn't gotten any sleep and probably wasn't about to start. "Imma go out again, look for Sophia."

That caught Carol's attention. She rose onto one elbow and wiped away a trail of tears from her cheek.

"But I'm gonna need my clip."

Andrea, who had been fiddling with the gun, loaded it up and handed it over to the hunter. "I'm coming with you."

Jealousy immediately pulled at Marlie's heartstrings. As much as she wanted to object and volunteer instead, she knew it would be wrong. Andrea was only trying to help, just as Daryl was, and stopping her from doing so would not be the kind thing to do. So Marlie sighed and nodded, silently wishing them both luck, as they would certainly need it. Marlie just hoped that a walker wasn't waiting for them down the road or beyond the trees. It would have been her fortune to not be around when something happened to Daryl. Would she ever forgive herself? No. Was she going to do anything about him leaving? Again, no. So she let them disappear beyond the RV, let them inform Dale of their plan, and let them go.

Carol sniffled beside Marlie, momentarily distracting the younger woman. "I wouldn't worry too much about them." She was still hiccupping, but her tears had finally stopped flowing. Whether it was because she didn't want to cry anymore or because her tear ducts had dried up, Carol was just glad that she didn't look like a blubbering baby anymore, not that Marlie would have cared. "They'll protect each other."

"I should be out there, too."

"You've done a lot for my Sophia already and I thank you for that." It was Carol's turn to pat Marlie's shoulders.

Breathing deeply in an attempt to calm her shot nerves, Marlie nodded solemnly. It was she who was supposed to be strong for Carol, but it was as though she was nothing without Daryl close by. He'd weakened her in the best kind of way. Still, she was going to have to reteach herself how to stand on her own two feet because Daryl wasn't going to be beside her twenty-four-seven, even if she wanted him to be.

Carol smiled to herself, thinking back. "I know that look."

"What look?"

"That one," she said, pointing at Marlie's face. "Back in college, I had this boyfriend, not Ed. Someone else. He was always real kind. But when he'd drive back home in Arkansas during breaks—you know, the ones for Christmas and Thanksgivin'—I'd have _that_ _look_ on my face."

The frown on Marlie's face lessened. "What happened to him?"

Carol shrugged. "We went our separate ways. But I think it's good what you're doing."

"What am I doing?"

"Giving him something to smile at. He never smiled at anything before you joined us."

Marlie nibbled timidly on her thumbnail at the comment.

"It's like he's a completely different person now. It's good."

"He looked like he needed a friend."

Carol smiled. "He follows you around now like you used to do to him."

Laughing, Marlie said, "Yeah, I wonder what changed."

"Daryl likes you, honey. It's good to see that there can still be love in this kind of world."

Marlie cleared her throat correctively. "Um, no, not love. Not love. Definitely not." She turned to Carol with a curious expression. "Is it that obvious?

Carol snorted. "It's obvious."

"Hm," she replied simply.

"You're so kind to everyone else, too. So good to everyone, and you didn't even know us."

"That's how my mom raised me." Marlie sighed inwardly, glad to be off the subject of Daryl. Love? Was that was it was? Sooner or later, she'd have to stop hiding that fact from herself, because she and Daryl had certainly become more than friends. Maybe it was just shocking to her because any other boyfriends she had had taken it slowly. Apparently, relationships worked differently during the apocalypse. Marlie must have missed that memo.

"You're lucky for that. A good mom, I mean."

Marlie shrugged. "I guess."

"It is, really. I mean, you were picking mushrooms for Amy's birthday before you even knew who she was. And giving Jim that flower…it was beautiful." Carol smiled. "You've made us better."

"I don't know. I'm just me. Another homeless stranger with a sad backstory."

Carol smirked. "You're more than that, Marlie. You've got the biggest heart I've ever seen."

"Yeah, and it's my biggest weakness, too." A big heart meant more attachments and more times to be afraid and terrified for the people she was attached to. Wasn't that what it meant?

"No," Carol stated flatly, shaking her head. "That is _not_ a weakness. It makes you better, makes you human."

Marlie nodded and looked down her clasped hands, finally noticing just how dirtied up they had become over the course of two days.

Unintentionally changing the subject, Carol asked, "Why do ya wear those?" She wasn't sure if it was her place to really ask, so she went quiet, hoping to not offend Marlie any further if she already had.

The chocolate-haired woman shifted slightly under the weight of the question.

"I'm sorry," Carol stated sadly. "I've been real bad lately with runnin' my mouth."

Marlie shook her head. "It's…it's nothing to worry about. Don't apologize." Sighing, she ran the options through her head. She could tell Carol that her gloves were merely for better grip on her blade—as she had once told Daryl—or she could make up another silly, unconvincing story. Better yet, Marlie could walk right out of the RV in a teary-eyed blur of emotion as she remembered the gruesome scene she had woken up to after her mother's car had flipped almost two months ago.

But she didn't do any of those. "I tried to kill myself."

Carol's mouth fell open slightly at the woman's blunt response.

"Yeah, crazy, huh?" She rubbed her neck nervously. Already, her palms were beginning to grow clammy under Carol's inspective gaze. But then older woman did something that Marlie hadn't been expecting—she reached out and took Marlie's hand in her own.

And slid off one of her cutoff gloves.

Marlie tensed fiercely and almost stopped Carol, but in the end, the glove was slid off and her hand and wrist were revealed. They were facing down, but Marlie reluctantly brought her palms upwards. One pink scar was clearly visible, even in the dark of the RV.

With extreme care, Carol brushed one scar before kindly putting Marlie's glove in her hand. "Here."

Marlie held onto the leather, but didn't replace it onto her hand. She simply fiddled around with it silently.

"I shouldn't be so nosy."

"Did Ed tell you that?" She looked up at the older woman before she realized how horrible she had just sounded. Shaking her head, Marlie said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"It's fine," Carol affirmed. "And you're right. I never asked questions when I was around Ed. He hated it."

"Well, I don't mind it. Not really."

But Carol was obviously not too sure if she should say anything more.

Marlie knew that she'd have to face the demons from her past sooner or later. Telling Daryl hadn't been enough. Granted, she had felt a weight lift from her shoulders then, but now all she thought of was the scars, the accident, the lying nurse telling her there had been no one else at the crash besides her mom and brother, that there hadn't been a flesh-eating monster. So in a final decision, Marlie removed her other glove and put them both on the bed beside her. "I think…" She paused hesitantly, but had already caught Carol's attention. "I think want to tell you."

"Marlie."

She shook her head, her expression firm. "I need to. I need to stop holding everything in. It's bad for my health, I think."

So Marlie told her tale, told Carol how her life had almost ended. But it hadn't and she took it as a second chance to start over and look at the world differently. It was hard, because the human race had already begun dying off while she had been recovering from her suicide attempt. When Marlie was released from the hospital, there was nothing left for her. "But I didn't want to die. Not anymore."

Absently, she rubbed her chaffed wrists and continued. It was barely a week after her hospital release that the world truly fell apart. Those who had been infected and died were suddenly getting up and walking out of the hospitals and treatments centers. "I had to leave everything behind. I couldn't even take my cat." She snorted sadly, but smiled when Carol's arm wrapped itself around Marlie's shoulder. "So I borrowed these from my mom and left," Marlie added, pointing to the two silver piercings in her ear.

"Borrowed?" asked Carol quietly, slightly choked by the tears she'd released during Marlie's sad story.

"I won't live forever, so someday, I'll give them back to her." She looked out the RV's front window, eagerly waiting to see Daryl and Andrea's flashlights for proof that they were alright. But Marlie saw nothing for the several minutes of silence that passed between her and Carol.

Then the younger woman sighed and reached into the plaid shirt that covered her camo tank. Lori had let her borrow the button-up piece, despite it being a little too small for Marlie, since Lori's frame was so very slight. A moment later, a folded, crinkled piece of paper was extracted from her sports bra. "There's this, too," she said, unraveling it until it was revealed to be a photograph.

Carol rested her chin on her face tearfully as the photo was unfolded. There was a little girl getting tickled on a woman's lap. Both of them were laughing, both had bright blue eyes as deep as the ocean and both had heads full of brown curls. It was easy to see whom the picture was depicting.

Marlie stared at the dirty, stained photograph on her lap, wiping away the little teardrops that fell onto it. "I was five years old."

"She was beautiful, your mother. You look just like her."

It was the warmest thing Marlie could hear right then. She wondered if it was wrong to be talking about herself when Carol was struggling with her own life and missing daughter.

"Things will get better," Carol said reassuringly, knowing that she wasn't the only sad person on the planet. Everyone was hurting. "We'll learn to smile again."

Marlie sniffed and nodded, folding up the photo and tucking it protectively back into her shirt.

"Here," the older woman said, handing her back the black gloves. "Lets go get some fresh air."

"I think I'll keep them off." Surprising herself and Carol, too, Marlie left the RV without the gloves. For the first time in a long time, she could feel the cool breeze sweep along her hot palms, which were clean in comparison to the dirt-caked parts of her fingers that hadn't been covered. She felt naked, but she'd get used to it. It was time to stop keeping secrets.

TWDTWDTWD

The two women kept watch on top the RV with Dale, who noticed Marlie's bare hands but kept his questions and comments to himself, much to her relief. She wouldn't have wanted to repeat her sob story twice in one night.

There was an anxiousness surrounding Carol that wrapped itself around Marlie, too, making her uncomfortable and concerned for Daryl's safety. Her mood instantly improved when a pair of flashlights appeared out of the woods a ways down the road.

But the pair wasn't hurrying up to the RV, like they would have if they had found anything worth being excited about. It broke Carol's heart all over again. With fresh tears falling at the realization that the search had, again, turned up empty, Carol climbed off the vehicle and hurried into the RV.

Marlie could hear her crying in the bed again and her heart lurched. At least Daryl was back. She supposed it was better than nothing. So she scampered to the RV's ladder, but before she could climb away, Dale spoke out to her.

"It's nice to see that there are hands underneath those gloves." He smiled comfortingly and Marlie wondered if he knew what she had been hiding.

There was no way to know for sure, though, and reconnecting with Daryl was at the top of her list of things to do right then.

"No sign of her," Andrea stated when Marlie met up with them. "Just a walker hangin' in a tree."

"Ew," Marlie said, brows furrowed in disgust.

"It was an ugly son of a bitch."

Andrea gagged. "Daryl, not again. Seriously." Her pace quickened, taking on the task of giving Carol the bad news.

When she was out of earshot, Marlie crossed her arms and walked alongside Daryl. "So you two get some bonding time?" She tried to not sound jealous, but she failed miserably.

Daryl snorted. "If you count searchin' for a missin' little girl, then yeah. But otherwise, no." He eyed the woman beside him and noticed the stiffness in her posture. "You coulda come."

"Andrea beat me to it. Besides, Carol needed someone to stay with her."

"So did you two get some bonding time?" he mocked with a half smile.

Marlie nodded. "Yes, actually. She'd finally started to feel a little better, too, but her night probably just got shitty again."

"There was nothin' out there. No sign of Sophia."

Marlie sighed, her head low. "I don't know how much more she can take. Coming back empty-handed, I mean. It's killing her."

"You don't think I know that?"

"I know you do, it's just…hard to watch." Her previous jealousy had been replaced with solemnness. "And now Carl and T-Dog." She sighed heavily, stopping her walk back to the RV and leaning against a dented grey car, arms still crossed.

Daryl stopped beside her, pushing against the car, too. His arm right arm brushed Marlie's left and that was when he noticed her bare hands.

"I don't know if I want to wear them anymore."

The hunter blinked, surprised that Marlie knew he was looking at her hands. "What made you wanna take 'em off?"

"My conversation with Carol. We talked for a while. She knows."

Daryl nodded. "You look good without them. That's just my opinion."

Marlie smirked. "They barely change my look."

"Well, I think it does. For the better."

She kicked at the asphalt beneath her boots and sniffed, thinking. Thinking about Daryl, their growing relationship, the way he looked at her now like she was the only thing left in the world that mattered. And she thought about the group, how so much had happened in the last twenty-four hours, and how much more was surely going to occur. Her brain was racked and filled, but at least her imagination was in check and not running rampant.

"Daryl, I—" Her voice was cut off, preventing her from finishing whatever she was going to say. Marlie didn't even _know_ what she planning on saying. She just had to find someway to stop her brain from thinking anymore, so she was going to talk. Talk about anything. But not anymore. Not with a pair of lips pressed against her own.

Daryl's hands flew up to her cheeks, keeping Marlie's face close to his own. It was almost forceful, but the desire was too much to stop.

And Marlie was drowning in it. Suffocating in his forest-scent. There was no doubt Dale was up on the RV wondering what the hell was going on, but Marlie didn't care. Nothing mattered but that exact second when one of Daryl's hands found the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. And the second after that when her own bare fingers combed into Daryl's gingery hair. And the seconds that followed as Marlie's pink mouth parted and the hunter's tongue slid behind her teeth.

All the while, her heart was unbelievably calm. It didn't pound loudly in her ears, didn't shake her form, just thudded quietly. This was how the world was supposed to be like—two people entwined sharing passionate kisses and breathing life into each other.

And for the shortest of moments, the end of the world hadn't happened, there weren't dead bodies filling up the highway, Sophia wasn't missing, Carl wasn't shot, T-Dog wasn't dying of infection, Carol wasn't crying herself to sleep in the RV, Andrea hadn't lost her sister, Daryl had his brother back, everyone was happy again. But the truth was, that was all just a lie that Marlie's mind crafted torturously for her. All there was now was the real thing. Reality, as sad as it had become, was the only thing that hadn't actually changed. It was still as disappointing as it was before the outbreak, like when Marlie would wake from a good dream and find herself thrust back into the real world. It was and always would be a disappointment.

So she had to deal with what was there and right then, it was Daryl with his body and mouth pressed against her…

And a walker approaching from behind him.

Marlie heard it before she saw it, but when her eyes flew open, the sight sent her stomach into her throat like a rock. The geek was _right there_.

She panicked and detached her lips from Daryl's, pointing behind him and spinning his shoulders around. Her hands were suddenly shaking out of control and couldn't find the knife sheathed safely on her jeans. All she could do was cry out Daryl's name.

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><p>Uh-oh. I did it again. Oopsies... I might get chapter up today, but no promises. "Burn Notice" is on tonight, so I just don't know. :P Bare with me!<p> 


	7. Cat Food is Still Food

Rejoice, for I have successfully completed yet another chapter! And as another migraine ensues, I must bid you all farewell and goodnight. I have big plans for the next chapter, though, so it might take a little longer to write than usual. Fear not, it's going to be good. At least, _I_ think so. :) Read, comment, love.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own _The Walking Dead_, nor have I ever done so or claimed to have done so.

* * *

><p><em>Necessary Knowledge to Survive a Zombie Apocalypse<em>

Chapter Six: Cat Food is Still Food

"_DARYL!_"

"Get back!"

Marlie didn't have to be told twice. Hell, she didn't have to be told once. Her feet did most of the work for her; scrambling backwards had been an unconscious effort.

Protectively, Daryl pushed the woman back even further, a little too hard he realized when she toppled onto the pavement. He took that as an opportunity to load his crossbow, despite the close proximity of the walker that had managed to sneak up on the pair and was now only a couple yards away. Never _ever_ would he be so careless again. Of course, he knew that now that there was a geek closing in, but somehow, kissing Marlie always had a strange effect on him and he never seemed to be able to keep track of time or notice his surroundings when pressed up against her.

Things were not going as well as the hunter had hoped. In his frantic state, the arrow fell from his grasp and clattered onto the road. All the while, a drooling undead neared with arms outstretched greedily.

But Daryl was taken off guard when Marlie made an unexpected move.

She leapt off the ground, knife finally in her bare hand, and charged at the oddly quiet walker. The blade reflected Daryl's flashlight brightly into her eyes, but her vision returned once the weapon was plunged into the creature's right eye.

Any noises it had been making vanished and the walker stumbled backwards before finally keeling over. It landed hard, blood pulsing disgustingly from its stabbed eye socket.

Marlie huffed, her heart racing. In an attempt to calm herself, she reached for Daryl's hand.

He replaced the unloaded arrow back into its place on the bow and slung the whole thing over his shoulder before accepting the young woman's palm. Then he pulled her towards the walker and retrieved her knife, wiping it onto his pant leg.

"Thanks," Marlie said with a proud sort of strength in her tone as she sheathed her weapon. Her nerves were rattled, but she admitted to herself that she had just kicked some serious ugly ass.

"No," stated the hunter. "Thank _you_."

Half-smiling, Marlie was led back to the RV where a serious look of concern was plastered on Dale's face.

"Taken care of," Daryl said simply with a nod as he took Marlie into the vehicle, dreaming of sleep. Sadly, dreams didn't always come true.

TWDTWDTWD

Marlie would be lying if she missed it—the cold wind flowing over her cheeks and tangling into her curls. Granted, she'd only been on a motorcycle once before—with Daryl, just as she was presently—but the feeling of freedom that accompanied the ride was exhilarating.

It was a great way to distract her mind that had been drifting to the night before. Getting intimate with Daryl had been exactly what she needed to calm her nerves that were destroyed with the worry of losing Sophia. Not entirely unexpectedly, the moment had been ruined with the appearance of a sneak little bastard of a walker. Fate had a sick sense of humor, Marlie mused.

With one arm wrapped around Daryl and his crossbow slung over her own shoulder, Marlie traced the tattoos on his back with her free hand. Goosebumps ensued on the man, of which she smiled widely at.

But before Marlie could believe it, they had arrived at the farm and were cruising up the gravel driveway. Green, open, beautiful. Everything that was no longer a part of the world. Sighing at the fact the motorcycle reprieve had to end, Marlie planted a gentle kiss on Daryl's neck and put her chin on his shoulder.

He craned his neck and laid his own little peck on her cheek before pulling up to the house, followed by the trailing RV.

Marlie was relieved when she caught sight of several familiar faces emerging from the dated, yet gorgeous, white house.

Lori, Rick, Shane, Glenn, and T-Dog, who had a new bandage on his arm to go along with the healthiness that radiated off of him. But there was someone missing.

"How is he?"

Marlie was glad when Dale asked the question because that meant she didn't have to.

Lori, with her hands on her hips, replied in a voice filled with relief, "He'll pull through, thanks to Hershel and his people and—"

"And Shane," Rick finished, looking back at the other officer behind him. "We would have lost Carl were it not for him."

It was a release for Marlie to hear such good news. Smiling, she kicked the dirt at her feet and leaned happily against Daryl, his bow still over her shoulder.

"Finally, some good news." The hunter crossed his arms and looked down at the young woman practically tied to his hip.

Marlie nodded before gaining the courage to ask what the hell had happened for Carl to get shot.

"It was a huntin' accident," Rick replied. "Just a stupid accident."

TWDTWDTWD

A funeral was held for the man who had unintentionally shot Carl. His name was Otis and his girlfriend Patricia had been in tears during the entire informal precession. Rocks were placed over his grave while Hershel Greene read verses from a bible.

There was something about the man that Marlie didn't care much for. Maybe it was his stiff shoulders or the constant lack of expression of any kind. It could have just been the introduction of strangers onto his pristine piece of land. Was he really _that_ unwelcoming? Marlie wondered. But she couldn't begrudge the man; he'd saved Carl's life, just as Otis and Shane had by venturing out into the town to grab the much-needed supplies.

Which brought Marlie onto the mental subject of Shane. There was something off with him now, Marlie realized, even more so than before. She wasn't quite sure what exactly, but something had happened or he had done something to agitate himself. He looked almost scared, and it made Marlie curious and even a little suspicious.

But there was no time to deal with those kinds of uncertain feelings, though. Finding Sophia was Marlie's—and everybody else's—objective.

"County survey map," announced Maggie, Hershel's pretty daughter who had appeared on horseback back in the forest to steal Lori. She rolled out a large sheet of paper onto the hood of an old truck that belonged at the farm and placed rocks on the corners to keep them from curling.

Shane nodded at the map. "This is perfect. We can finally get this whole thing organized."

"We could split into groups to cover more ground," agreed Rick.

Mr. Greene shook his head and said in his usual lifeless voice, "Not you. You gave three units of blood, Rick."

"Oh shit," Marlie said under her voice, having not realized the extent the deputy had gone to to save his little boy.

"You wouldn't make it five minutes out in this heat before passing out," added Hershel with finality. "And you," he continued, staring at Shane with a hard gaze, "You keep straining that ankle and you'll be laid up for a month."

That was obviously _not_ what Shane wanted to hear. He huffed unhappily and smacked the blue hood of the truck.

Daryl sniffed and nodded. "Guess that leaves me and Marlie."

At the mention of her name, the young woman's heart bounced behind her ribcage before being urged to settle down. Suddenly, the term "giddy schoolgirl" matched her emotions right then. It was the first time that Daryl had actually included her in anything; she always just volunteered against his will. Casually, in an attempt to mask her growing glee, Marlie nodded as well and looked up at the group, looking for any indications of disagreement.

There were none.

Leaning over the truck to indicate a specific piece of the map, Daryl informed, "We'll go back to the creek and work our way from there."

"We could search this area here," Marlie added beside the hunter, circling part of the mapped-out stream. "I don't think we search down that stretch."

Daryl bobbed his head in agreement and glanced over at her.

"Tomorrow then. We'll do this thing right." Rick's hands went to his hips as he addressed the group. No one, as far as he could tell, had any objections.

Leaning onto the hood, Shane spoke up again. "Then we can't just let our people use knives."

Marlie blinked. What was wrong with knives?

"They need some gun-trainin'."

All eyes fell onto Hershel at that moment. He turned to Rick. "I really don't like the thought of you carryin' gun on my property. We've managed so far without them."

And that fact was almost surprising to Marlie. This farm was like a little piece of paradise of which bad things seemed to have no knowledge of. Had Hershel and his people even _seen_ a walker on his property? Surely they had, Marlie thought. There was nowhere without walkers now.

Rick nodded slowly, understanding that Mr. Greene was completely in his right to decide what happened and what was allowed on his own land. Eyeing everyone in the little group around the truck, he said sternly, "Then we will respect Hershel's wishes. This is his property and we are his guests." And with that, he removed his silver Colt Python from his pants and laid it onto the hood.

With reluctance, Shane did the same, and finally Marlie, who felt Andrea's fiery gaze on her.

"Alright," Rick began again. "First thing's first. Set up camp and find Sophia."

"What happens when we find her?" Shane piped. "What if she's bit? We need to have a plan for that sorta thing."

Marlie gulped at the thought of finding the lost little girl a walker instead of what Carol remembered as her daughter.

Hesitantly, Rick replied, "You do what has to be done."

"And her mother? What do you tell her?" asked Maggie, unhappy with Rick's answer.

Marlie sighed. "The truth."

TWDTWDTWD

Morning came much too quickly. Again, Marlie hadn't been able to fall asleep, despite knowing that the farm was relatively safer than other places that she'd been to since the outbreak. She wondered if she was ever going to _really_ feel safe again.

The odds were not in her favor.

The trek along the creek kept her busy, though. Walking alongside Daryl boosted her comfort level and helped to put her mind at ease somewhat. The mission had been the same as before: find Sophia and who cares about anything else? But Marlie found her brain focusing more on Daryl than at the task at hand. It was as though she was going through withdrawals.

"Daryl?" she asked, her pace matching his equally.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for including me to come along with you."

He snorted.

"I'm serious!"

"I didn't say nothin'." Daryl half grinned, making sure that Marlie couldn't see it. "And you're welcome."

Looking down at her black booted feet, the young woman asked with a little bit of hesitance, "Any particular reason?"

"Yeah, actually," he replied immediately, looking over at her.

If Marlie's ears could have swiveled, then they would have just to be sure she heard whatever Daryl was going to say to her.

"You're good with a knife."

She stared, waiting for more, but when nothing else happened, Marlie asked, "That's it?"

"Oh, you wanted more?" Daryl asked, smirking innocently.

"Haha," Marlie said sarcastically. "I'm serious."

Putting on a straight face, Daryl nonchalantly brushed his hand along a low hanging branch, snapping off the end. He fiddled absentmindedly with the tree piece before dropping it and, turning on a dime to face Marlie, he grabbed her shoulders and kissed her fiercely.

It had _not_ been the answer Marlie was expecting, but she gladly accepted it nonetheless. There was a force behind his kiss that took her by surprise, like it had been locked up tightly in his lips and had begged and pleaded to be released. And now that it had been, the kiss burned hungrily like fire on Marlie's lips. She gladly let it and in return, she slipped her tongue in beside his where it fit perfectly. That is, before he slid it behind Marlie's teeth.

Having no intention of tuning everything out, Daryl kept his ears open and completely alert. He wouldn't be caught off guard a second time by a geek.

Meanwhile, Marlie gave into the man, letting his hands find the base of her back and the curve of her neck. He was holding her so close that she could feel his heart beat into hers through her breasts. The feeling was unlike anything she had ever felt. The gaping hole that had torn Marlie's heart asunder was stitching itself up inch by inch, and every second spent with Daryl healed it even more. The loss of her mom and brother, her suicide attempt, the outbreak itself, being devoid of human contact for weeks all just sank into the back of her mind. Marlie wouldn't ever forget any of those things—she'd wake up to constant reminders everyday—but slowly, something deep began to shift and change. Daryl was reviving her.

He pulled back slightly, to breathe and to see if Marlie had had enough.

"Don't stop," she whispered, her breath warm against his lips.

"It ain't like I wanna," Daryl admitted. He rested his sweating forehead against Marlie's with a sigh. "But we have a little girl to find."

Closing her eyes at the disappointment that came with having to end the kiss, Marlie knew he was right. Sophia was out there somewhere and they had a mission of finding her. Nobody said that a little bit of intimacy wasn't allowed on the journey; Marlie wouldn't have cared even if it weren't. But now they had to return to the task at hand.

So they continued on their current path, through the thick woods and away from the farm.

"Daryl," Marlie said a while later, her ocean blue eyes glued to something up ahead.

The hunter removed the crossbow from his shoulders and pointed it forward. "Yeah, I see it."

It happened to be a house. An old cottage with chipped paint and a creaky porch, the perfect incarnation of a several-decade-old haunted house. The inside was no better. Squeaky floorboards as an ancient as god himself, it seemed, wailed with each step. The windows were unbroken and covered by dusty white sheers and the stairs leading up to the second floor were cracked and warped. It was apparent that the house had not been used since sometime before the end of the world.

Somehow that comforted Marlie. It seemed that not everything was abandoned when the outbreak hit; some things simply died away before any undead even walked the earth.

Marlie tapped Daryl's shoulder before he could proceed with the search. Using the hand signals that he'd once used back during the first search for Sophia, Marlie suggested that they split up.

Daryl shook his head right away. Into her ear, he said quietly, "We stick together. It's safer."

Safety in numbers, right? Marlie knew that it was the best option, even if it was the slowest, too. So they stalked through the grimy house carefully and quietly. There wasn't a whole lot to see, aside from the occasional piece of dust-covered furniture that had once been used many years ago. The house itself gave off a foreboding that sent goosebumps all along Marlie's neck and arms. To make matters worse, something smelled like stale cat food.

If Sophia had been there, then she certainly wouldn't have stayed very long.

They made their way into what looked to be the dining room, complete with a small wooden table, a knocked over chair, and China cabinet. But it was the tiny garbage can beside the hutch that caught Marlie's attention. Again, she tapped Daryl's shoulder and pointed down at the wastebasket.

Daryl reached into it and removed a freshly opened can of gourmet kitty chow. He eyed Marlie with raised brows and then spotted the partially opened pantry door at the other end of the room. Putting his hand up behind him, Daryl kept Marlie from nearing the door.

She rolled her eyes. Did she seriously look like a child? Marlie certainly knew how to take care of herself. Still, she obeyed and stayed put, but clutched her knife tightly in one ungloved hand.

Carefully, the hunter nudged at the pantry's door, his finger on the trigger of his crossbow. But there was nothing in it aside from several cans of vegetables and a small makeshift bed on the floor. He straightened up at the sight.

Marlie peeked around the man, to see what had caused him to stiffen. When she laid eyes on the bed, complete with soft blanket and pillow, Marlie quickly glanced around the room for anymore signs of a visitor. There was nothing.

Sophia had already gone.

They called her name several times outside and around the house, but there was no response. There never was. But finding a bed meant they were that much closer to finding her.

"It's the first real sign that she's alive," Marlie said optimistically. "It's better than nothing."

Daryl nodded. "Definitely better than nothin'. But Carol's gonna be expectin' more than just 'a sign'."

Marlie frowned deeply. "But this will give her hope."

"You and your positivity. Never ceases, does it?"

"No. It would be hard to live in this world without it."

"It's hard to live in this world anyway."

That it was, Marlie agreed mentally. Everyday it was "watch you back" and "don't make a sound" and "run, run, run". Life was probably going to continue being that difficult forever. Even if, by some miracle, Fort Benning did provide shelter and safety, the world was still gone. Sick, infected, and gone. Optimism just made the days go by a little easier, that's all.

"You see that?" Daryl asked suddenly, causing Marlie to reach back for her blade in preparation to use it.

But there weren't any walkers in sight. Just a bush full of white flowers. "Those?" Marlie asked, pointing at them.

The hunter nodded. "Cherokee rose," he informed, touching one of their petals with delicacy.

Marlie admired the way that he acted around the blooms. It wasn't everyday that people took the time to enjoy something so small and frail. Hard-ass Daryl was proving to her more and more that he had a heart and that he wasn't always afraid to show it.

Gently, Daryl picked one flower off its lonely little branch, keeping it safely in his hand until he stumbled upon a half-buried beer bottle in the woods and place the flower's stem into it, leaving the blossom to perch at the top. "For Carol," he said quietly, solemnly when Marlie gave him a curious glance.

The pair continued the hunt for Sophia for over an hour until they chose to head back to their new camp at Hershel's ranch.

Marlie wandered off to the RV with Daryl in toe. She paused just outside the door. "You go. Tell her what the Cherokee rose means."

"You already know?" he asked, not entirely shocked when the intelligent woman nodded a yes. So Daryl headed inside, the glass bottle and flower at his side. He was surprised to find the state of the RV; everything was tidy and clean and orderly.

"Cleaned up," Carol said flatly, sewing into a piece of clothing. Her eyes were puffy and red and her cheeks were flushed from crying recently.

Daryl chewed on the inside of his lower lip. "For a second, I thought I was in the wrong place."

Carol snorted before noticing the bottle in Daryl's hands. "A flower?" she asked, watching him place it on the small table beside him.

"It's a Cherokee rose. The story is that when American soldiers were movin' Indians off their land—on the Trail of Tears, you know?—the Cherokee mothers were grievin' and cryin' so much cuz they were loosin' their little ones along the way. Exposure, disease, starvation. But most of them just disappeared."

The older woman's head lowered at how this story was already going. Memories and images of Sophia were flooding in behind her eyeballs that it was almost too painful to stand.

"So the Elders, they, uh, said a prayer. Asked for a sign to uplift the mothers' spirits. Give 'em strength and hope." His eyes brightened a little as he kindly stroked one petal of the flower. "The next day, this rose started to grow right where the mothers' tears fell." He fell silent for several moments, only imagining how difficult it must be for Carol right then, but then he continued. Marlie would have wanted him to. "I'm not fool enough to believe that there's any flowers bloomin' for my brother," Daryl said, suddenly missing his sibling more than he was willing to admit. "But I believe that this one bloomed for your little girl."

There was moment of stillness and silence until Carol finally smiled and turned away, playing absently with the fabric in her hands. Her day had become a little brighter.

Daryl thought it best to leave the woman alone then, so he exited the RV with an air of calmness around him. He'd done the right thing.

"That was good of you, Daryl," Marlie said, leaning against the RV's siding with her arms crossed patiently.

He nodded, but said nothing.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just tired," he lied, walking past her.

Marlie saw right through the fib, seeing in the man's face that he was not, in fact, just tired. Little did he know, Marlie had heard everything. She specifically recalled the last part about his brother. Something clenched in her heart then, realizing just how much Daryl wanted his brother back or at least wanted to have knowledge that the other man had made it and was surviving alright.

Jogging up beside him, Marlie pressed up against his arm and grabbed his hand. She weaved her fingers between his and smiled he squeezed them firmly.

* * *

><p>A little bit of Daryl and Marlie, which I had a great deal of fun writing. I had this silly little smile on my face while typing some parts, I'm sure. What do you think? You like? :P<p> 


	8. Memories Make Us Human, So Never Forget

This was fun to write, not gonna lie. "Chupacabra" was my favorite episode and I didn't want to screw it up with a crappy chapter, so I hope I did a relatively okay job with this one. Read on and be happy! And comment! :)

DISCLAIMER: I don't own _The Walker Dead_.

* * *

><p><em>Necessary Knowledge to Survive a Zombie Apocalypse<em>

Chapter Seven: Memories Make Us Human, so Never Forget

_There were four inches of powder on the ground, casting the whole of Atlanta in a white glow. And it was still falling! It had been years since that much snow had fallen out of the city's skies._

_ It was the middle of January. Christmas and New Year's Day had already come and gone, but in their wake was the jittery glee that would probably last until work arrived in the morning. Not that writing for the city's leading newspaper was a problem, but I didn't want Jack to have to leave. _

_He was going to be heading out to the Atlantic Ocean for his first overseas training for the Navy and he wouldn't be back for another six months._

_But I didn't dwell on that for more than was necessary, because there was snow falling outside and I had a brother to tackle._

_My mom's condominium had a comfortably sized backyard with plenty of room for a dog to run around. But Mom didn't have a pooch. Instead, she had two rambunctious, often immature, children who liked snow as much as the next kid._

_We weren't kids anymore; we liked to act like we were, though. And with the snow, Jack and I were as crazy as ever._

"_Your snow angle looks like shit," my brother joked rudely, standing over me while I moved my arms and legs back and forth in the powder._

_I gasped with mock unhappiness before scooping up a handful of cold snow and chucked it at him. It would have been a direct hit to the face had he not flinched and ducked in time. "At least I didn't make it _in_ shit," I commented, perking a serious brow at Jack's back._

_His blue eyes widened as he craned his neck to get a view of his behind._

_I laughed at his gullibility before launching another snowball in his general direction. "Made ya look!" At age twenty-six, it still didn't bother me to act like a kid sometimes._

"_Hey!" Jack exclaimed, his posture straightening like he had learned in Navy training. "No funny. I thought I'd ruined my only jacket."_

"_Oh, you poor baby." There was a silly smirk on my rose face as I stood up and stuck out my lower lip pitifully. There was a snowball in my face a second later, causing me to sputter out the frigid chunks that had made into my mouth. While I was blinded, Jack took that opportunity to come at me with speed. I could hear his boots crunch against the icy top layer of snow. Instinctually, I swung out with a left hook, but hit nothing but air._

_Jack, with all his training, watched as I exposed my left side him, of which he proceeded to plow into. He wasn't using all of his strength. If anything, he was going easy on me. It wasn't unexpected; after all, I was his little sister._

_I cried out, laughing terribly as Jack flung me over his right shoulder. At the other end of the yard, where my neighbors had already plowed, was a three-foot-tall snowy drift. And Jack was carrying me right to it. Still giggling wildly, I kicked and pushed but his grip was too strong. He was only using one hand, too! "Stop!" I tried to say seriously, but was laughing much too hard for it to come out anything more than mildly._

"_So you can throw another snowball at me? I don't think so, Little Mar."_

"_I promise I'll stop!"_

_Jack snickered pleasantly. "Nope. Uh-uh. You're a little too clever sometimes. It's pay back, don't you think?"_

_On the corner of my eye, I saw our mother standing by the back door wall, smiling goofily at us. It was obvious she wasn't going to help me, so I slumped heavily on Jack's firm shoulder, in hopes that the dead weight would at least slow him down._

"_No more fight left in you?" he asked, still on course for the snowdrift._

_I sighed with a grin. "I've accepted my fate."_

"_Good choice," Jack snorted as he literally tossed me into the powder._

_But I wouldn't go down alone. Once his grip on my legs was released, I latched onto his shoulder like a bundled up little spider monkey and pulled him into the pile with me. I rolled out of the way just as Jack toppled down._

_When he brought his head up, there was snow and ice dripping down his cheeks and nose and there was a smile on his face bigger than the city of Atlanta._

_For the final blow, I crammed a snowball into the side of his head before flopping tiredly into the drift where the two us giggled stupidly, watching snowflakes fall from a grey sky._

She opened her denim eyes to the world and saw a canopy of green high above her head. Intermittent puffs of cotton ball clouds floated by, drawing her attention momentarily. A pounding in her head, however, drew her focus away from the sky. It felt like the mother of all migraines. Pulsing, painful, never-ending. Even blinking hurt. Hell, everything made it worse. The sky was too bright, the trees were too vibrant, the ground was too wet.

Marlie's mind was reeling. Why was she on the ground? Her first thought was to sit up and take in her surroundings. But the moment she tried to do so, the jackhammering in her skull nearly knocked her out again. And there something wet on her left temple. Curiously, the confused woman put an index finger to her head gently and flinched when she made contact with a rather ragged cut. When she withdrew, there was crimson red on her finger.

She wanted to understand what was happening to her, what _had_ happened to her, but her head hurt so much. Thoughts weren't making sense in her own mind.

The sky above began to dim and the trees faded away until consciousness fled from her once more.

**Three hours previous**

"Chupacabra?" Rick asked skeptically, brows raised at Daryl.

Dale appeared alongside the old truck with a bag of guns on his shoulder. "The first day back at camp, Daryl mentioned how it reminded him of a time when he was squirrel-hunting and saw a Chupacabra." There was a hint of doubtfulness in the old man's tone.

Smirking, T-Dog asked, "So you believe in a blood-suckin' dog?"

"You believe in the dead walkin' around?" retorted Daryl seriously.

With a microscopic grin on her face, Marlie put a hand out to T-Dog, hoping to simmer the silly situation down. "Okay, we all have our stories."

Daryl scoffed and looked over at her. "It ain't no story."

"I never said stories couldn't be true."

"You mean you actually believe in the Chupacabra?" T-Dog wondered, leaning against the hood of truck.

Marlie shrugged. "There was some pretty convincing stuff on the Nat Geo channel."

Rick snorted and shook his head. "Alright, alright. Daryl," he said, pointing at part of the map that was rolled out before them. "You and Marlie take this part here. Shane and I will look over here, further into the forest."

Daryl nodded. "We'll borrow a couple horses and head out that way."

No one objected and the pair departed from the group.

"I'll go get the horses, if you wanna gather some supplies for the trip," Daryl suggested.

Marlie agreed and watched as the man headed off to the stables. She proceeded to grab water and snacks from the RV, where she and Daryl had passed out the night before, and stuffed them into her backpack. She passed Glenn along the way back from the vehicle and in a moment of thought, Marlie pulled him aside from the little campsite, out of anyone's earshot. "Hey, I've got a question to ask," she asked shyly.

"Sure, what's up?"

She fidgeted slightly, but said, "Back at the pharmacy, did you happen to grab, um, did you grab any condoms?" Marlie just spit it out, feeling good to have asked, but at the same time, a little silly.

Glenn blinked. "Uh, yeah, actually."

With eyes wide a little, Marlie asked hopefully, "Would it be possible to have a couple? I mean, unless you're using them or something." She felt awkward then.

So did Glenn. Did Marlie know about him and Maggie? Had she figured it out? Nervously, he shifted on his feet and rubbed his neck, sweat already forming on his forehead. "No, no, why would you think that? No, I'm not using them."

Marlie's brow lifted. "Oh, well then can I have some?"

"Actually, Daryl came by earlier and took a few." He paused uneasily. "Wait, shit. Unless…unless you don't need them for Daryl, then I have some more for you…if you want."

Her heart was beating chaotically. It wasn't that the topic of sex or condoms made her shy or anything, but she wasn't sure just how many people knew about her and Daryl. She figured it wasn't that difficult to see, but the condoms took it to a whole new level. Plus, Glenn was acting strange, which made Marlie feel weird asking for them. It made her smile, though, to know that Daryl had also had the same idea to ask Glenn for protection. "Er, then nevermind. If Daryl has them, then it's okay. Um, thanks." She scurried away from the awkward conversation before Glenn could make it even more uncomfortable.

Daryl met up with her a few minutes later. He was perched atop one steed while the he held onto the reigns of a second. "You said you had a cat once, didn't you?"

Marlie looked up at him and nodded, handing him supplies to put into his horse's satchel. "Yeah, why?"

"There's a cat in the stable barn. It was sleepin' in the hay pile. Just thought I'd tell ya."

It pleased Marlie that the hunter had noticed the cat and then recalled that she had once owned one. Marlie told him about her pet cat Kie several days ago at the CDC. Honestly, she didn't expect Daryl to pay that close attention to seemingly unimportant facts, but knowing that he actually had, put a warm feeling in her heart.

"Oh, that's…good. You should show it to me when we get back."

"Sure thing," he agreed, about to get off his brown horse to help Marlie get onto hers.

She saw his intentions and put her hand up to stop him. "I got this. I may have never been on a motorcycle before, but I lived in Atlanta for long enough to know how to ride a horse." With skill and practice, Marlie hooked her foot into the saddle and hoisted her body up and over the steed. She planted her butt firmly in her seat before asking, "Ready?"

Daryl grinned at the woman's independence and nodded over at her.

The pair then disappeared through the woods, officially beginning another day's worth of searching for the missing Sophia.

"Did you ask Hershel if we could take these?" Marlie asked a short while into their trek, indicating the horses. There was a silly grin on her face, like she already knew the answer.

Daryl shrugged. "There wasn't any sign that said we couldn't."

"Ah," Marlie said, scanning the area. "I see."

"What? You think we're gonna get in trouble?"

She scoffed. "We're not kids. What's the old guy gonna do? Spank us?"

Daryl snorted and smiled, giving a kind pat to his horse's warm neck. "That reminds me, I talked to Glenn today."

"Yeah, me too."

The hunter eyed Marlie curiously. "What did you guys talk about?"

Marlie enjoyed the laid back tone that Daryl chose to use. "His little shopping trip to the pharmacy yesterday."

Daryl nodded. "Oh?"

"But you'd already beat me to them."

He smirked, knowing exactly what she was talking about then.

"Glad we were thinking about the same thing."

Daryl bobbed his head again. Tonight was going to be a good night, he mused. It seemed that every night was slowly getting better. He and Marlie had gone from sleeping at opposite ends of the original camp, to sharing a couch at the CDC, to sharing the RV roof back on the highway, to sleeping side by side _inside_ the RV. Hell, they'd be sharing their own tent before the week was out. Make no mistake, though—Daryl wasn't complaining. It felt good to feel someone else's warmth so close to him. He was learning to enjoy the small things now, just as Marlie did on a daily basis.

And he had pleased her by finally changing out of his sweat and dirt-covered sleeveless shirt, replaced by a slightly cleaner, sleeved plaid top. Anything for her, he thought.

For nearly two hours, Marlie shared stories with him and random little facts about anything that caught her attention. Daryl would occasionally put in his two cents, but mostly left the chatter to her. "The amount of carbon dioxide increases _so much_ in the winter because all the trees are dormant and don't filter out as much CO2 as they do when they're active in the summer."

Daryl sat back and listened with actual interested to her knowledge.

"It's like the whole world just sort of exhales in the winter, and then breathes in when the trees bloom again in the spring."

And they talked about their lives before the outbreak. Daryl spoke about his brother momentarily, finally admitting that the '71 Triumph back at the ranch was actually Merle's, and not his own.

"What about all those drugs? Does he sell them? He'd make a lot of money off of them," suggested Marlie.

Daryl sighed. "Sometimes he deals 'em. Sometimes he keeps 'em for himself."

Marlie nodded, not really judging. What people did with drugs was their own business. Hell, even _she'd_ taken a hit off a marijuana pipe before. It never took to her, though, as well as other people. She was more of an alcohol kind of gal, anyway.

"What about pets?" she asked later on. "Cats, dogs, gerbils, anything?"

"Had a dog once. Yellow lab. Good huntin' dog, too."

Marlie smiled. "I've always wanted a lab, but I'm more of a cat person. What happened to it?"

"He got hit by some fucking retard a few years ago. Haven't had anything else since." His shoulder slumped slightly, angry with the bastard who had taken away the only real thing he cared about, aside from his roommate brother. "He was a good dog, too."

"What was his name?"

"Gizmo."

Marlie smirked. "I like that one. Gizmo. It's nice."

"What about your cat? What kind a name is 'Key'?"

"K, I, E. Kie. I got the name from a movie. There was this healing clay stuff that some guy used to save some chick's life. I really liked the movie and named her after something good."

"You named your cat after some clay in a movie?"

Marlie snorted at how silly that sounded. But it was true. "Yeah, pretty much. Plus, Kie was a bunch of shades of grey and definitely looked like the shit from the movie."

"What movie was it?"

"_Lady in the_…_Water_…" Marlie hesitated, her eyes suddenly glued to the stream positioned a little ways down a ravine. She pointed at something resting in the tan sands of the creek.

Brows furrowed, Daryl followed Marlie's gaze. There was definitely something lying down there. "Come on," he whispered, putting an end to the previous conversation.

They parked their horses alongside a tree and made their way carefully down the steep slope, eyes ever observant and cautious of their surroundings. Luckily, there were no walkers in sight as they reached the bottom of the hill.

Daryl reached the object first and snatched it up slowly. "Sophia!" he cried out. "SOPHIA!"

"What is it?" Marlie asked beside him, looking it over once it was in her hands. An image flashed behind her eyes of Sophia carrying around a little ragdoll. The little ragdoll that Marlie was holding in her hands. Her fingers became weak and she dropped the doll. "Sophia!" she shouted loudly, but there was nothing but the birds to reply.

"She was here," Daryl said, picked the doll back up and putting in his belt.

"Or maybe the doll washed up. I don't see any tracks." For once, the positivity was not evident in Marlie's tone. Still, a doll was better than nothing at all.

"Lets get back. We'll keep lookin'."

Nodding, Marlie followed the hunter back up the slope where their horses were there to greet them. She didn't pick up the conversation again; her mind was now too focused on finding the little girl, lost in the woods by herself somewhere.

Daryl remained silent as well. The doll was definitely a good sign, but the lack of Sophia damped his spirits. He hadn't been this stressed out since he learned of his brother being tied to a roof in the city. Thank God for Marlie's company to keep him hopeful. "We'll search a little farther up the creek, but then I think we need to head back. It'll be dark in a few hours."

Sadly, Marlie agreed. Calling off the search was the worse part, by far.

They trekked ahead, eyes scanning every tree and tuning into every sound that the forest had to offer. Neither one of them, however, took notice to the copperhead curled up on the ground, amidst the dead leaves and grass.

Daryl's horse saw it first. The steed shrieked and bucked up onto its hind legs, frightening the snake away and sending Daryl crashing to the ground. He rolled down over the edge of the slope and disappeared from sight.

And it was too late for Marlie's own horse. It saw the snake and it saw the other mount panic, so it panicked, as well and cast Marlie from its back. She gasped and struck the earth. Something sharp bit at her temple.

The horses scampered off.

Everything went black.

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><p>Part two is in the works! But I might torture you guys be making you wait until tomorrow. Muahahaha! :D<p> 


	9. Sleep With One Eye Open

Oh man, I think is the longest chapter I've done yet! It only took FOREVER. Haha, but it was worth every second of mine time. Still, I'm not even done writing for this episode! One more chapter should do the trick, and then I've got some nice little plans for the last two episodes! This was sort of the hump in this story and now I'm almost over it and then it shouldn't take so long for me to update...even though I think I update pretty quickly.

Anyway, here you guys go and I just wanna thank you all for reading my _Walking Dead_ stuff. It means so much to me to wake up every day and see more comments and favorites. So I thank each and every one of you for taking the time to read this. :)

DISCLAIMER: _The Walking Dead_ is not of my creation. Marlie, on the other hand, is _all_ mine.

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><p><em>Necessary Knowledge to Survive a Zombie Apocalypse<em>

Chapter Eight: Sleep With One Eye Open

"Daryl," she moaned, her voice barely carrying past her own ears. "Daryl?" Her volume went up, but she received no response. The hammering under her skull was persistent, but had subsided enough for Marlie to remain awake. She laid on the damp forest floor for several minutes, blinking against the bright sky, evaluating her situation as best as she could.

There was blood on her forehead, which meant she'd hit something on the way down off her startled steed. Rolling her head to the left, Marlie saw a sharp rock right beside her with congealed blood dripped down along its bumpy surface. Just looking at it made her head hurt worse.

She moaned again as the young woman rolled onto her side and pushed herself off the ground. Leaning back onto her haunches, Marlie searched for any sign of Daryl or the horses. She cried out to him, but again, received nothing in return.

The steep slope to her side caught her attention. She looked down the hill and found a man lying still in the water. Marlie gasped. "Daryl!" Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, which didn't do anything good for the migraine. There was blood in the water surrounding the hunter below and on the man himself.

There was no doubt that he was in trouble.

Breathing heavily against the worry that shook her bones, Marlie leaned closer to the edge. "DARYL!"

He didn't budge.

"_DARYL!_" she screamed again, leaning hard. She felt the ground crumbling beneath her hands, but could not catch herself in time. Marlie tumbled forward with a surprised yelp. The rocks were smoothed over from years of water erosion, but it didn't make the trip down any more fun. The young woman didn't have time to stabilize herself and she landed into the shallow creek with a painful splash as the wind was knocked out of her. Again, she was on her back, looking up at the blue sky while her head swam. But she sighed, relieved, when Marlie realized that she had landed just a couple yards from Daryl.

And he was alive, his chest rising in slow, even breaths.

Involuntarily, Marlie slid into the darkness of unconsciousness.

_ They were fighting again…Mom and Dad. They were always fighting. It scared me to hear them yell so loudly at each other. Was that what parents were suppose to do? I hoped not, but it was happening anyway._

_ Jack sat beside me on the paw print-covered sheets of my bed. He had his skinny little arm wrapped around my shoulders. I was shaking, I'm sure, trembling against the shouts and curses coming from the other end of our house in Detroit, Michigan._

_ I was terrified._

_ But Jack told me it would be alright. That the screaming would stop soon._

_ He was my big brother, so of course I believed him. I was only fourteen, and Jack was just a year older, but I still looked up to him more than anything else in the world. He was everything to me, especially in times like these when he was the only person in my life not yelling._

_ Mom was furious that she'd come home from work earlier that day to find the house in a state of major chaos. All the while, my father was sunken into the couch with a Heineken in one hand and the television remote in another. A dozen other bottles littered the living room floor._

_ "Cover your ears," Jack warned protectively, helping me do so by placing his hands over mine, as if that would help block out the ensuing battle between my parents._

_ It didn't help. I flinched when I heard something heavy collide with a wall and more screaming erupted. I think Jack could feel me shivering because he began to rock me back and forth beside him, holding me close and warming me._

_ The pleasant warmth didn't last long, though. I heard strong footsteps approaching the end of the hall where my bedroom was._

_ Mom was shouting out, saying, "You leave those two out of this!"_

_ But my dad ignored her and as he stormed into the room and took Jack by the collar of his loose-fitting pajama shirt._

_ I cried then, not able to handle the situation without Jack seated right beside me. And currently, he was being held up in front of my raging drunk of a father. There was no fear in his eyes, though. That was what startled me more than anything. The fact that Jack could stare deep into my dad's blue orbs without so much as flinching…it was almost scary._

_ Meanwhile, Mom was trying to spin my dad around, to deposit Jack back onto the bed and take his anger out on her instead. But Dad simply shrugged her off and cursed at my brother viciously._

_ There was no reason to be mad at Jack. He'd never hurt a fly in his life. To see him so helpless and fearless shook me to the core._

_ But then I realized that Jack _wasn't_ fearless. He was strong and protective and more importantly, he had a family to look after since our own father was obviously not up for the job._

_ In a fury of movement, Dad's fist drew back and rocketed forward into Jack's cheek. His head snapped back unnaturally and I shrieked, horrified. _

"_Don't look," my mom said, suddenly on the bed beside me where Jack had once been sitting. "Close your eyes."_

_So did just that. I drew my legs up to my chest and kept my ears covered and closed my eyes tightly. But the urge to watch was strong. The urge to see the truth behind my family, to see just how fucked up everything really was in my life, was so powerful. I opened my eyes, tears creeping slowly down my cheek. My mom had her face pressed into my shoulder and I could tell by her trembling form that she was crying._

_And I watched. Watched as my father hit Jack twice more. Watch as my brother stumbled back from his grasp around his shirt. Watched as Jack drew back his own fist and let it fly._

_For a fifteen-year-old, he had one hell of a punch._

_Dad staggered away into the hall, clutching his nose as blood poured out._

_There was a terrible look in Jack's eyes then, a look that I wanted to never see again. It was a look that shook my own father until he wandered out of the house uselessly, probably on his way to another bar._

_But just as horrible as it was, the anger in Jack's eyes turned to relief when he saw that I was still alright. Tearful, but otherwise okay._

_We went to the hospital after that to get Jack's broken hand looked at. He had a busted lip and two black eyes, but nothing as damaged as my dad's ego the moment Jack's knuckles had collided with his face._

_Jack was no longer the innocent big brother that I had always thought him to be. He had suddenly become that man I would always look up to._

TWDTWDTWD

She wanted to stay asleep, despite the memory of her parents' fight. Marlie just wanted to rest because every part of her hurt, her head in particular. "Go away," she grumbled, pushing back at whatever was nudging at her shoulder and stroking her wet cheek.

"Marlie."

Her eyes reluctantly opened at the sound of her name. When her vision finally cleared, she saw a familiar face staring at her. "Daryl?" she asked weakly.

"Ain't nobody else," he replied, his wet palm resting kindly on her cheek. "Now come on. Get up," he added, extending his free hand down to her, of which she took reluctantly.

Marlie didn't want to get up, but she knew there wasn't really a choice. Her headache had returned full force and she flinched at the pounding. She couldn't find her backpack, either, which meant she'd lost it somewhere during her fall.

"Oh my god," she stated quietly, reaching out to Daryl's side when she was on her feet.

There was an arrow pierced there, creating quite the bloody mess all over himself. The hunter brought his hand to it painfully. "I'll live," he rasped.

"Are you going to take it out?" Marlie asked.

Looking down at it, Daryl flinched at the thought. "I'm still thinkin' about it. How's your head?" eyeing the woman's gashed temple with unhappiness.

Marlie snorted and wrapped her arm over his shoulder to support him. "I'll live." She was still wearing Lori's borrowed shirt and Marlie hoped that the older woman didn't mind that it was currently being stained with blood.

They stumbled onto a sandy cove where Daryl proceeded to kneel down weakly. He took out his hunting blade and began slicing his new shirt's sleeves off.

Marlie watched him tie the two pieces together and then around his waist to stop the bleeding and steady the arrow. It was painful to watch, but it had to be done, Marlie knew. In an attempt to be of some kind of assistances, Marlie found a long, sturdy stick on the ground beside Daryl. With a nod, she handed it to him and helped him back onto his feet.

He leaned heavily into it the branch, silently grateful for its support and Marlie's, too, whose shoulder he wrapped his arm around for further balance.

It scared Marlie to see this man in the state that he was in. Still, for having an arrow rammed into his side, she'd say that Daryl was doing pretty damn good. It was crazy how shitty the day had become in just a matter of seconds. It got even worse when something moved behind a thick row of bushes at the other side of the creek.

Daryl put a finger to his thin lips and reached back for his crossbow. His heart sank as he realized that it was no longer slung over his shoulder. He tapped Marlie's shoulder and signaled to her of the situation.

They got lucky when Daryl found it in the water near where he had landed. Neither said a word, in fear of alerting whatever was in the bushes to their presence.

The next step was clear: hike back up the way they came down. It was much easier said than done for the two of them. Marlie's vision was still swimming and Daryl's side was still bleeding. The trek upwards was going to be hell.

Breathing deeply, Marlie initiated the first step up. She kept Daryl's arm draped along her shoulders to keep him from collapsing and sliding back into the creek. But it was difficult, because she had to carry more than just her own weight now and they were both very tired.

Nervously, Marlie glanced behind her repeatedly, praying that no walker snuck out from the bushes and went after them.

Daryl's stick proved to be of little use during the climb. It kept getting snagged on vines or stuck in the mud. Occasionally, the damn thing would get purchase on a stiff piece of ground and would hold as Daryl and Marlie lurched further upwards, defying gravity with every step. But it was, more often than not, problematic. Realizing that the branch had served its purpose and was no longer useful, Daryl chucked it impatiently down the ravine.

Marlie glanced at him before eyeing the bit of slope that they had already took on. They were thirty feet up and there was still another thirty feet to go. She could see that every second weakened Daryl further and it killed her to see and hear him strain against the challenge of getting the hell over the cliff.

She was grateful that her headache, despite her draining energy, was actually dissipating, though. That was one thing to be happy about, now that she and Daryl were quite possibly climbing for their lives. Her new mission now was to get him safely back to Hershel's farm. Until then, there was nothing else. Even Sophia was going to have to wait.

Breathing deeply, Marlie urged Daryl onward, but he hesitated. "Come on. You've done half already," she whispered sternly into his ear. "Stop being such a pussy."

He blinked at Marlie's insult, surprised and almost proud of her guts to say that to him. Smirking, the man reached up for a thick vine just out of arm's length. His muddy fingers grabbed it, but lost their grip. It caused Daryl to misplace his footing.

Marlie clutched at his arm tightly, but her own hands were wet and muddy and she couldn't hold on for long. She gasped when Daryl's fingers slipped through hers. The moment that he began to fall, Marlie frantically headed back down the slope, taking care of where her boots went; she didn't want to topple down after the man because she wouldn't be any good to him unconscious again.

And there was still something in the bushes.

That thought pushed Marlie harder and faster. When she heard Daryl grunt loudly and then go quiet, she knew he'd reached the bottom. Without any more patience, Marlie slid down the last ten feet of the slope. It didn't bother her that her ass was now caked in thick mud or that there were leaves and other natural things stuck in her hair. Making sure Daryl was alright had her full attention.

She sighed loudly when she kneeled beside his limp form. He was breathing and barely conscious, but alive. Marlie frowned when he began to mumble his brother's name.

"Shitty day, bro," he muttered, eyes closed.

"Daryl?" Marlie asked nervously, bent over beside him as she nudged his shoulder. "Come on, wake up."

TWDTWDTWD

It was just his imagination, right? What would be the odds of Merle finding him way out in butt fucking Egypt? There wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that that could have happened. Daryl wasn't even in Atlanta anymore. They were many miles beyond the city now.

But he could hear his brother's voice as clear as day as he lay prone on the leafy mud pile at the base of the slope he had just rolled down for a second time that day. At least he wasn't in the water.

"Why don't ya pull that arrow out, ya dummy?" Merle asked. "You can bind your wound better."

"Merle," Daryl murmured.

The older man smiled and looked over his younger brother. "What's going on here? You takin' a siesta or somethin'?"

"Shitty day, bro," he replied simply, his eyes open a sliver.

Merle snorted. "You want me to get ya a pillow? Maybe rub your feet?" There was a smile on his face, both crafty and goofy, like he didn't have a single care in the world except figuring out his brother's situation.

Daryl moved slightly. "Screw you."

"Uh-uh. You're the one screwed from the looks of it." He inched closer to Daryl, one knee in the mud and the other acting as an armrest from Merle. "All those years I spent tryin' to make a man of you. This is what I get? Lyin' in the dirt, useless. You're gonna die out here little brother. And for what?"

"Carol," the younger brother replied quietly. He could feel a headache coming on, but he wasn't sure if it was from the fall or his body was just trying to take his mind of the pain in his side, where a crossbow bolt stuck out. "She lost her little girl."

"So you got a thing for little girls now?"

Daryl flinched. "Shut up."

"Cuz I noticed you ain't out there lookin' for Merle no more."

He opened his eyes a little more, but the image of Merle before him was unfocused. He wondered where Marlie was. "I tried like hell to find you, bro."

"Like hell you did. Ya split, the first chance ya got."

"_You_ let out," he retorted, a little louder. "All you had to do was wait. We went back for ya, Rick and I. I did good by ya, Merle."

"That cop the one who handcuffed me to the roof in the first place? Forced me to cut off my own hand?"

Daryl blinked and tried to look up at his brother, but his vision swirled and faded again and he barely noticed that Merle had two hands again.

"You his bitch now?"

"I ain't nobody's bitch," Daryl snapped.

"What about the piece of ass ya follow around now? You love her more than me?"

"Marlie's a friend."

Merle snorted. "Is that what they call 'em these days? Since when do ya make friends?"

There was an anger rising in him, listening to his brother talk so brutally about Marlie. She was innocent and kind and beautiful and she didn't deserve to be talked about like that. "Shut up, Merle," he rasped. "I care about her."

"Do ya now? Then why aren't ya awake to look after her?"

"She can look after herself."

"Without a big, strong man around, I don' know. You ain't even a man, anyway. What good are you?"

Daryl rolled his head slowly to look up at Merle. His gaze was fiery and it bit at his brother. "I wouldn't let anything happen to her."

"Mm," Merle said skeptically. "So then she's _your_ bitch?"

"Fuck you."

TWDTWDTWD

He was hallucinating or talking to himself or _something_, Marlie realized. That could never be a good sign. She looked over at him and frowned. He was semi-conscious and didn't even see her there. He'd mentioned her name, though. Was he talking to his imaginary brother about _her?_ She wanted to know what was going on his head, but anything she said to him flowed through one ear and out the other.

It was obvious that Daryl wasn't awake enough to notice anything other than his illusions.

"Fine," Marlie said, more to herself than to a barely-conscious Daryl. She got off her knees, taking care to brush off the clumpy mud. She was now on guard duty. With her knife clutched tightly in her grip, Marlie scanned the creek and prayed that no geeks came out of the bushes, because all she had was her knife and a crossbow that had no ammo left, aside from the arrow in Daryl's side. Either way, she had no idea how to load and use the damn thing, which left her with just a blade. So again, Marlie prayed for no walkers, and listened to Daryl whisper to the wind.

TWDTWDTWD

"You're a joke is what you are. You're just an errand boy to a bunch of pansy asses, niggers, and democrats. You're nothin' but a freak to them. Redneck trash." Merle was still smiling strangely down at his brother, taking no notice to the woman standing a few feet away. His primary focus was on Daryl, who was still lying limply on the ground below.

Daryl slipped further into unconsciousness, but lingered just close enough to the surface of wakefulness to hear his brother speak.

"Ya, they're all laughin' at ya behind your back. You know that don't ya?" He cocked his head to the left slightly, scrutinizing his brother's face. "Well I got news for ya, son. One of these days, they're gonna scrape you off their shoes like dog shit."

There was so much that Daryl wanted to say to his brother then. He wanted to stick up for himself and for Marlie, who was the nicest person he had yet to run across. Sure, she had her moments of sarcasm and bitchiness, but didn't everybody get moments like those? Marlie was his friend and something even more than that, but he wasn't about to tell his asshole brother his feelings for the young woman who aimed to please and actually _cared_ about Daryl, cared about finding Sophia and making it through the day with a smile. She made his life better and Daryl wanted to show that to Merle, tell him that he's wrong about Marlie, wrong about the group thinking of Daryl as a lowlife redneck.

But he couldn't say a thing. He was slipping away again. God, he was so incredibly tired. All Daryl wanted to do was find Marlie, get back to camp, and sleep. But just the thought of climbing back up that slope made him want to pass out right then.

Merle shook him then, causing his eyes to open halfway. "Hey," Merle said assertively. His smile vanished momentarily as he added, "They ain't your kin, your blood. So when you get back, you shoot your pal Rick in the face for me." He leaned forward and grabbed Daryl's tanned chin lightly. "Now you listen to me," Merle said, shaking his brother. "Ain't nobody gonna care about you 'cept me, Little Brother. Ain't nobody ever will. Not that bitch Marlie, not anyone."

"Don't call her that," Daryl managed to squeeze out, but he hated that his voice didn't carry very far. His tone wasn't even assertive and stern, like he had wanted it to be. He sounded like a weak little child lying in the dirt.

Merle smirked. "Whatever. Now get up, 'fore I have to kick your teeth in." He stood up then and kicked at Daryl's leg repeatedly, shaking him awake.

Consciousness slowly returned and Daryl opened his eyes. Merle was nowhere in sight.

TWDTWDTWD

"WAKE UP!" Marlie screamed into the man's ear, shaking him fiercely as two walkers approached. She'd already thrown her knife into the forehead of a third geek, but she couldn't get close enough to retrieve it and fend off the other two. So she kept shaking Daryl, kept shouting at him to wake the fuck up.

Finally, he did. He sat up immediately at the sight of walkers and reached for his crossbow, but it was still out of ammo.

"How nice of you to join me?" Marlie huffed impatiently before noticing the stick beside Daryl. Now that he was sitting upright, the branch was visibly lying next to the man. In a whir of speed, Marlie snatched up the piece of wood and quickly walked up to the nearest walker. She growled and swung at it full force.

The geek snarled and groaned as the branch connected with the side of its face, but it didn't stop its approach.

Meanwhile, Daryl realized what had to be done in order to take out the third geek who was making its way closer to Marlie. Without really caring, the hunter grabbed the arrow in his side and pulled. He had never felt so much pain in his life. Getting the plastic feathers at the end through his busted flesh was the hardest part, but finally, the bolt came free and he painfully loaded it into the crossbow.

Marlie could hear Daryl's shouts of pain, but there wasn't an opportunity to look back and check on his situation, because the walker in front of her was relentless. Several blows to the head and it was still standing. That was when the fake training that she acquired while picking fights with her older brother came into play.

Ducking to avoid the walker's swinging arm, Marlie whacked at its leg, successfully knocking it down as the stick slid under it. Having the geek on the ground made the next move very easy. Taking the branch tightly in both hands, she brought it down with all her strength onto the snarling creature's face.

Its skull cracked beneath the blow.

But Marlie didn't stop. Her arms were shaking, but she kept at it. There was a fury built up inside her from the fact that these walkers would kill her and Daryl if given the chance. _Nobody_ was allowed to touch that man except her, however. With that thought clearly in her head, Marlie brought down the stick once more until the walker's head was nothing but skull fragments, blood, and mush.

"Marlie, get down!" ordered Daryl suddenly and loudly.

She didn't bother looking at him or finding the reason for having to duck. Marlie simply obeyed and hunched forward over the reeking corpse beneath her.

Daryl pulled the trigger on his freshly loaded crossbow and was satisfied when the arrow plunged through the head of the last walker. It fell beside Marlie, only a few feet away.

The young woman eyed the dead geek with wide eyes. She hadn't even realized how close it had managed to scoot towards her. "Nice shot," Marlie congratulated, breathing hard. Then she jumped off the walker below her and hurried up to Daryl, who was wavering slightly where he stood. She immediately inspected his wound and looked up at him questioningly.

"Like I said before, I'll live," he huffed tiredly.

Marlie shook her head at him and ordered him to sit down. "Put pressure on it," she commanded further as she removed the plaid shirt that Lori had let her borrow two days before. She hoped the older woman would forgive her, because she wasn't going to be giving the shirt back.

Daryl said nothing as Marlie folded up the shirt and told the hunter to lift his. He hissed when she pushed the fabric onto his bleeding wound.

"Hold it there," Marlie said, indicating the scrunched top pressed to his side.

Daryl obeyed without thought and watched as Marlie took the sleeves that he had tied around the arrow initially and tightened them around the shirt. Another hiss of pain and it was done.

Marlie stepped back and eyed her handy word. "That should do it," she said with her hands on her hips.

"Thanks," he said quietly, getting up and looking down at his side. He was very satisfied with what Marlie had done.

She nodded and said, "I wish I had some food or something, but I think I lost my pack on the way down. And I didn't see it when we were hiking back up."

Daryl smirked. This woman would never give up on him, that was for sure. "I got an idea," he said, grabbing his crossbow and making his way back to the walker with an arrow in its head. The hunter pulled it free and loaded his crossbow with a grunt.

"Do you want help?"

He shook his head. "I got this." With a click, the arrow was ready for flight.

Marlie followed behind the man, keeping an eye on his six while he wandered off to do god knew what. "Is there a reason we're not climbing? I mean, I sure as hell with there was a ski lift to get us up, but it's going to be dark soon."

Daryl simply put a finger to his lips to silence her and he stalked forward towards the trees quietly. A moment later, he pulled the trigger and smiled when something squealed. He jogged forward and retrieved his prey.

"Ew," Marlie mumbled disgustedly as Daryl brought the dead squirrel to a log in the middle of the creek's sandbar and began slicing it open.

He offered her a bean-sized piece of what appeared to be an organ, to which Marlie declined.

"Vegetarian, remember?"

"No, you lost that title when I caught you deer huntin'."

Marlie smirked and rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Just eat that and let's go. This place is creeping me out."

He had to agree with her on that one. It only be a matter of time before more walkers showed up and he'd be damned if they were around to meet them. So he crammed several more pieces of squirrel into his mouth, already beginning to feel his strength return. "One more thing I gotta do."

"And that is?" She cringed when Daryl began slicing off one of every walker's ears. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Daryl smirked, blood staining his chin from the dead squirrel. "Got anymore twine?" he asked, looking at Marlie's military-grade hip pack. She'd used thin rope before to drag the buck back to the camp many days ago and Daryl had recalled that she still had some left.

"Yeah, but seriously, what are you doing?" She reached behind her and cut a long piece of rope and handed it to Daryl. He proceeded to string the ears and make a necklace out of them, causing Marlie to gag. "Alright, I'm not going anywhere _near_ you with those around your neck."

"Trophies," he mused seriously.

"I don't care what they are. It's gross. And you've got squirrel juice on your face."

He wiped some of it away and extended his hand.

Marlie flinched away from it, but with reluctance, Marlie took it in her own and followed him to the base of the slope. Sixty feet up awaited their destination. She eyed Daryl, trying to ignore the ears dangling over his chest.

Breathing deeply, Daryl said, "Ready for round two?"

"About as ready as I'll ever be."

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><p>While reading through this chapter, checking for mistakes and whatnot, I kept getting "Merle" and "Marlie" mixed up! It was horrible! So I apologize for those of you who read their names wrong. :P<p> 


	10. Don't Screw With a Woman in Love

Here is the sequel you all have been eager to read! This is probably one of my favorite chapters yet. I had a great time writing it and it flowed out pretty well, which made my job that much easier! So ye be! Enjoy and comment and let me know what you think! I've got some nice ideas up my sleeve for the next few chapters, so be on the look out for them!

* * *

><p><em>Necessary Knowledge to Survive a Zombie Apocalypse<em>

Chapter Nine: Don't Screw With a Woman in Love

It was stop and go, stop and go for a majority of the sixty feet that made up the steep slope in the Georgian wilderness. But mostly, it was just stop. No go.

"We have to keep climbing," Marlie urged. Her breath came in shallow loads and the strain of scaling the cliff had her head pulsing. Blood kept dripping into her left eye, a steady trail of it leading out from the inch-long laceration on her forehead. Even wiping away the crimson was an effort.

Daryl wasn't having any fun, either. His side stung and every microscopic movement sent lightning bolts of pain up his body. There was bump forming above his brow where he'd struck the slick rocks during his second involuntary trip down. And now he was wet and muddy, making his life even more fantastic, sarcastically speaking.

"Hey," Marlie said softly, holding onto a patch of grass with white-knuckled hands.

When Daryl had his footing, he looked up at her, sweat pouring down his face and back.

"We're almost there." She smiled.

There was a comforting tone in her every word that strengthened Daryl. Marlie was right; there was only another ten feet to go. It was probably going to be the longest ten feet in his entire life, but ten feet was better than thirty, better than sixty. "And lets hope nothin's waitin' for us at the top."

Marlie frowned.

Noticing the look he was suddenly being given, Daryl corrected himself. "But there probably won't be."

"There you go. That's…that's what I wanna hear."

Daryl nodded and the two pressed onward. But he was struggling. There were two feet of sheer vertical, almost impassible slope. He frowned deeply at it.

"You can do," the young woman pressed, having already figured out a way around it. "Just push your foot against that tree and reach up for this one. I'll help you." She extended her hand down to him and clung tightly to another skinny little tree that was growing right out of the slope.

Sighing tiredly, Daryl hesitantly obeyed, bracing his weight against one tree and reaching up to Marlie's hand. He held onto it like his life depended on it, but was otherwise stuck. "What now?"

"Uh…" Honestly, she hadn't thought that far ahead. "Okay, um, can you reach those vines to your left?"

Daryl eyed them and shook his head.

"Shit," she rasped. "Alright, let me think. Don't let go of my hand, though, okay?"

He nodded and sighed, relieved to get a moment to catch his breath. A deep frown etched itself across his face when he heard his brother's voice.

"What's the matter, Little Darlina?" Merle asked with a smirk, crouched down at the peek of the hill. "That all ya got in ya?"

"I liked it better when you was missin'," Daryl replied before he could stop himself.

Marlie blinked. "Excuse me?"

He shook his head at her. "No no no, I'm sorry. Not you. I wasn't talkin' to you. Sorry."

"Then who were you talking to?" she asked, brows furrowed.

"Uh, no one."

Merle scoffed. "Is that all I am to you, Brother? No one?"

"Shut up!" Daryl snapped, closing his eyes tightly against the sound of his brother's voice. He could feel Marlie's eyes on his, but what could he possibly say to her without sounding crazy?

But she already had a good idea of what was going on. "Is it Merle?"

The hunter looked up at her, surprised.

"You were talking to him before, when you had fallen down the second time."

He turned away. "Sorry."

"For what?"

"Nothin'. Just…lets get over this damn hill before the sun sets."

Marlie pressed her lips together and nodded slowly, ignoring Daryl's snippy response. Hey, if he didn't want to talk to her about his hallucinations, then she wasn't going to force the subject on him.

Feeling stupid for having talked to himself, Daryl mentally kicked his own balls. Goddamn Merle, always fucking with him. He shook his head in an attempt to clear if and searched for a way beyond the steepest part of the slope. Sure, Marlie had tackled it easily, but her side wasn't bleeding and hurting like the Dickens, either.

"Aw, don't be like that. I'm only lookin' out for ya."

Daryl growled at the sound of Merle's voice again. "Since when?" he mumbled quietly, hardly caring now that Marlie could hear him. Maybe she was too busy looking for a way out to notice. "You were never there, you ain't here now. Some things never change."

She was concerned, most definitely. People didn't talk to illusions unless something was wrong. The bump on his head was probably the cause. Marlie just prayed that he'd make a healthy recovery. Daryl was strong, she knew, but he was only human. And humans could hurt themselves just as anything else in the world could.

"Well, I tell you what," Merle continued, standing up and straightening his posture, "I'm as real as your Chupacabra." His tone was filled with mockery.

Daryl wrinkled his nose. "I know what I saw!"

"And what did you see?" Marlie wanted to say back, but she knew it wouldn't do her any good. Daryl was deep in conversation with his brother who wasn't there and trying to talk the hunter out of his hallucination would be pointless and a waste of time. So instead, she pointed to little tree to Daryl's left, motioning for him to try and grab it.

With a grunt, he pressed off the piece of foliage he was standing on grabbed at the tree. Finally, he was going somewhere.

Merle folded his arms. "I bet those shrooms you ate had nothin' to do with your 'sighting'." He snorted.

"Shut the hell up!"

"Or what?" Merle taunted. "You gonna come up here and shut my mouth for me?"

Marlie smiled at the hunter's progress. He still held onto her hand for support, but he was really moving up. With what little strength she had left in her, Marlie pulled hard on his arm and furthered his progress when he found a foothold at the top of the vertical drop.

"Well come on and do it then, if ya think you're man enough," Merle demanded with a bone-shuddering snicker. "Kick off them damn high heels and climb before the bitch beats ya to the top."

Daryl shook his head again, restraining himself from saying something that might frighten Marlie further. He could only imagine what she thought of him then, talking to his imaginary brother, no matter how real his visions seemed. "Don't," was all he responded with.

"Still talking to Merle?" Marlie finally asked in a calm tone, as to not embarrass him. "Might be doing you so some good, actually. We're almost there." She smiled when Daryl met her eyes, conveying a sense of positivity from a nonjudgmental standpoint. Hell, it was only a matter of time before she, too, started seeing things…if she wasn't already.

Merle shook his head at his younger brother. "See, I just don't think you're gonna make it to the top."

In an effort to prove Merle wrong, Daryl pushed himself to his limits and beyond. So much so, that Marlie was suddenly feeling outdone.

"Jesus, slow down," she urged, refusing to relinquish her grip on him.

"Come on now, come on. Grab your pal Rick's hand," Merle jeered one last time.

Daryl winced in pain as he swung his free hand up and over the slope. He touched the flat ground with a sigh and hoisted himself safely onto the grass, taking care to not let go of Marlie who was now in need of assistance. But with his relief came a small ounce of strength enough to help Marlie up.

She crawled up beside him and grunted. With hesitance, Marlie looked down at the ravine where she and Daryl had been stranded in a short time ago. But she was careful not to lean onto the edge of cliff, in fear of repeating her last mistake. Sighing heavily, she looked over at Daryl who was panting sorely beside her. A light giggle escaped her lips then and the young woman pecked the man on the cheek.

He blinked at her. "What was that for?"

"Not dying." Marlie stood up and helped Daryl to his feet, scanning the area for any signs of their horses. "Looks like we're walking."

"You think I'm crazy, don't ya?"

Marlie shook her head, already knowing what he was talking about. "You hit your head pretty hard, Daryl. It was a little weird, to be honest, but it's not my place to say that you're crazy."

"Then whose place is it?"

"Why does it matter? We're out of that little hellhole. We kicked ass along the way and we'll have the scars to prove it."

Daryl smirked. "I think they'll prove just how clumsy we are."

"More like how clumsy _I _am and how wimpy our horses are."

"Hershel's gonna be pissed," he mused.

Marlie nodded in agreement, cringing at the thought of the old man grounding them or something. "Now can we go? The sun's going down." She pulled Daryl's arm around her shoulder for support and took the first step towards the farm. It would be a while before they made it back, especially now that they had no horses to carry them onward, but as long as no walkers got in their way, the trip would be relatively flat and easy.

And it was! Although Daryl had to stop several times to rest against a sugar maple and catch his breath. His wound had stopped bleeding, but the pain was stronger than ever. The sooner he could get off his feet, the better.

"Almost there," Marlie chirped with evident joyfulness. She could see the clearing up ahead that marked the outer boundaries to the ranch. "Just a few more yards." Something skittered down her tank top then, causing her stop in her tracks and detach from Daryl.

He glanced back. "Everything okay?" he asked, breathy, limping back a few steps towards the farm.

Marlie reached into her shirt where it felt like something had fallen and retrieved the front part of one silver earring. Her dirt-covered hand immediately went up to her ear to find that there was, in fact, an empty lobe hole. And there was no backing to be found. "Goddamn it," she cursed. Those were her mother's earrings, after all. "I lost the back of my earring."

Daryl just frowned at her. There was nothing he could do about a missing earring, even if it _was_ Marlie's mom's. Maybe someone at the camp had a piece she could use to secure it back in its place, but other than that, he didn't know. And frankly, an earring was the least of his concern. Getting Marlie's head looked at was priority. "Hey," he called over to her, nodding towards the farm. "Lets have Hershel take a look at that cut of yours."

She blushed slightly at the fact that Daryl was putting her little bumped forehead before his own injuries. It flattered her, even though Daryl required more medical attention than she did. "Don't you think you should clean your face off before you go out in public? With that limp and the blood, you might be mistaken for a walker."

He snorted and turned away from her, heading out into the clearing.

"Seriously," she said, half-joking. She gave herself a pat down where she stood in hopes of finding the backing to one of the last possessions she had of her mother.

Daryl glanced back. "You comin'?"

She sighed. "Hang on!" Her volume went up now that the hunter was wandering farther away. "You should wait!"

"Nah," he said under his breath, "I'll be fine." But he really did wish that she'd hurry up. He wasn't going to just leave her there; someone from the camp would probably see him and know that they were back. Dale would spot him from the top of the RV, Daryl thought. The old man would see Daryl's condition and get help. But he certainly wasn't leaving Marlie behind. Just getting a few paces ahead to signal for help.

"Hey, wait!" Marlie stopped wondering about the location of the earring piece; it was long gone done the ravine, probably. She hurried forward to catch up with Daryl. "I'm serious. The squirrel juice just isn't working for you." When Daryl didn't respond, she glanced up and saw Rick, Shane, Glenn, and T-Dog closing in on the hunter's position, their weapons raised against him.

Damn the hunter for not listening to her about cleaning himself off! "No!" Marlie cried, rushing out from behind the tree line, arms raised. "Don't shoot!"

Glenn cringed. "Is that Daryl?"

"Of course it's Daryl!" Marlie replied unhappily. "Who the hell else would it be?"

"It's 'bout time you pointed that thing at my head. You gonna pull the trigger or what?" His attitude was not pleasant.

Marlie growled, shoving her earring into her jeans pocket. "Daryl, stop. Rick," she added, looking over at the deputy with raise brows, "Do you mind?"

The officer slowly lowered his firearm and the little walker-killing party sighed collectively.

Daryl snorted and glanced back at Marlie, who was completely _not_ amused.

"Not fucking funny, Daryl. They could have—"

The unmistakable sound of a fired rifle split the air.

Daryl's head snapped to the side and he fell backwards, landing hard on the soft grass of the field.

"_NO!_" Marlie screamed, ignoring the surge of pain that intensified her migraine. "_DARLY!_" She was on the ground beside him in an instant. There were tears already streaming hastily down both cheeks as she reached out to touch the fallen man's face.

He cringed when she inspected the fresh slice along the left side of his head.

"Jesus, Daryl," she whispered, sniffling over him.

Rick's eyes went wide as he hurried over to Daryl. "NO!" he cried out behind him, towards the camp and towards the sound of the rifle. "NO!" He, along with Shane, scooped him off the ground, his arms draped around their shoulders.

"I was kidding," Daryl huffed, flinching at the sudden pain on his head before falling limp in the officers' grips.

Marlie was breathing hard beside Rick. "Daryl!"

"Calm down, Marlie. He's just unconscious."

Calm down? she wondered. How the fuck did anybody expect her to calm down? Somebody had just shot Daryl! It wasn't that Marlie was mad at Rick; he was only trying to settle her down because she needed to, badly. But she wasn't in the mood to be patronized for freaking out. She had a right to be upset. Still, she had to keep a level head. Blacking out from rage wasn't going to do anybody any good.

The little rag doll behind Daryl grabbed her focus then and she scooped it up.

T-Dog noticed her and said with wide eyes, "Isn't that Sophia's?" It caught everybody's attention.

Marlie nodded.

Up ahead, Andrea and Dale swiftly approached, the former nearly in tears as she said, "Oh my god, oh my god, is he dead?"

"Unconscious," Rick assured. "You just grazed him."

Suddenly, fear for Daryl's safety iced over and became cold, deadly anger. Marlie's blue eyes met Andreas.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" the blonde exclaimed apologetically, keeping pace with the group as it hurried to get Daryl into Hershel's medical care.

Marlie knew it was Andrea's fault. Her expression, franticness, horrified frown all proved it. But she restrained herself…for the time being.

"Uh, look at him, guys," Glenn said in a disgusted tone. "He's wearing ears! What the hell happened?"

The question was directed at Marlie, to which she replied by yanking the hideous necklace free and cramming it grossly into her back pocket. She'd need a new pair of pants afterwards because there was no way in hell she was putting them back on after walker ears had been in them.

Rick shook his head. "Lets keep that to ourselves."

The group made it to Hershel a minute later.

He wasn't _at all_ happy about the situation. Nobody was, but he was particularly furious. Two of his horses had been "borrowed" without permission, now they were running around somewhere in the woods, and Daryl had just been shot even after Hershel had explained his thoughts on firearms on his ranch. That wouldn't keep him from treating his patients, however.

TWDTWDTWD

"We found it in the creek bed here," Daryl said to Rick, indicating a specific point on the map rolled out before him on one of Hershel's guest beds.

Marlie kneeled beside it, nodding, all the while watching Hershel as he finished bandaging up the hunter. She had overseen his entire care for the past two hours—wound cleaning, stitching, bandaging—never leaving his side even when Hershel instructed her to. "I want to be here when he wakes up," she kept saying, and she had been. Her head was taken care of last, under her own wishes. Marlie required four _very_ painful sutures that were now covered with a gauze pad taped across her head, but it was nothing compared to the six stitches in Daryl's side, as well as in his forehead.

As for the ear necklace, Marlie had happily surrendered it to Rick. Sadly, she probably wasn't going to get a new pair of pants like she had hoped. Wal-Mart had gone out of business when the world had ended.

"She must have dropped it while crossing," Marlie said quietly, relief having calmed her senses for the time being.

Rick nodded and glanced over his shoulder at Shane. "Cuts the grid almost in half."

"You're welcome," Daryl scoffed, momentarily watching Hershel tape gauze to his side. He was glad that the pain had subsided tremendously. His brother's painkillers fended off most of the discomfort and he was glad to have been asleep when most of the disinfecting had occurred. Too bad he woke up just as the stitches were being done. Now _that_ had hurt. But having Marlie close by made it easier to tolerate.

The young woman saw Hershel walk away from Daryl then to rinse out a red-tinted white rag into a small basin. "How's he looking?" she asked, still kneeled beside the bed.

Hershel shook his head, an emotionless expression plastered on his face, as always. "I have no idea. Didn't think I'd be going through antibiotics so quickly." He turned around and with a quiet unhappiness settled into the heart of his voice, the old man asked, "Any idea what happened to my horses?"

Snorting, Daryl asked, "You mean the two that almost killed us? If they're smart, they left the country."

Marlie sank onto her haunches and smirked just out of sight of Hershel, who surely wouldn't have appreciated her support of Daryl's sense of humor.

Completely ignoring them both, Hershel informed, "One of them's called Nelly, as in Nervous Nelly. I could have told you that she'd throw you if either of you'd bothered to ask."

Averting her gaze from the older man, Marlie gulped, suddenly feeling very much like a child getting reprimanded. Still, it was better than a spanking.

"The other one's Abacus. Did she throw you off, too?" he asked, staring at Marlie.

She could feel his eyes on her and she reluctantly looked up and nodded, abashed.

Hershel shook his head and dried his hands on a clean towel. He glanced at Rick. "It's a wonder how you all have made it this far."

An audible sigh escaped Marlie's lips when everyone else left the room. "I thought he was gonna give us the paddle or something," she whispered quietly, just in case Hershel was right outside the door.

Daryl snorted. "The old fool wouldn't dare."

Marlie watched him for several moments, still seated on the ground. Seeing him awake and alert and _alive_ made her realize just how in love she was with this man. After coming so close to losing him on several occasions, it was a wonder why Marlie hadn't already confessed herself to him. Honestly, though, she had a feeling that he already knew. A blind man could have seen it.

The rest of the group had probably figured it out, too. It would have been impossible _not_ to know. After all, Marlie was rarely seen without the hunter now.

"What are ya lookin' at?" Daryl finally asked quietly, his head resting in his palm.

Marlie sniffed. "I told you you should of wiped that blood off." She could only hold a serious face for so long before a smile etched itself across her mouth and into her eyes.

He sighed. "Sorry, _Mom_," he said sarcastically, beginning to smile as well.

"Well, at least you learned your lesson."

"Which one? The one about askin' before you steal a horse? Or the one about not rollin' down a slope? Oh, oh! Or maybe the one about not getting' an arrow stuck through your side?"

Marlie stroked her chin in mock thoughtfulness. "Hm, the one about getting shot. But how about all of them!" She giggled and Daryl joined him, both glad for the happy little reprieve in which they both found themselves.

A stomach growl shut them both up.

"Don't look at me," Marlie said, smiling. "That was all you."

Daryl glanced down at his shirtless stomach. It rumbled for a second time.

"I'll go get you some dinner," laughed the young woman, standing up and walking towards the door.

"Hey," Daryl said, stopping her in her tracks. "Thanks…for today. For lookin' for Sophia, for killin' those walkers, and…just…for everything."

Marlie quickly noted the hesitation and awkwardness surrounding Daryl at that moment. He obvious didn't thank people very often, so the fact that he was acknowledging her like that gave her a warm feeling inside. She bent over him and kissed his cheek gently. "You're welcome."

"Watch the stitches," he said with a smile as Marlie disappeared into the hallway in search of food.

She found it in the dining room, where everybody was gathering around two tables filled with lovely glass dishes and edible creations. Her stomach growled at the sight.

"How's Daryl?" Lori asked, seeing the younger woman approach.

"He's fine." Her eyes locked onto Andrea's and she gave her a murderous stare until the blonde broke away shyly. You better back off, bitch, Marlie mused angrily. Then she turned to Hershel, who was already getting situated in his chair. "Hershel?" she asked quietly, clearing her throat. She still felt bad about the horses. "Is it alright if I bring some food to him and eat in his room instead?"

The older man thought for a moment before sighing and giving a slight nod. "Make sure he eats enough."

Marlie understood and gathered up two plates and two glasses of water and made her way back into the guest room. She frowned when Daryl didn't acknowledge her arrival; he had fallen unconscious again. "Hey," she snapped at him, putting his plate on the bed beside him, while she placed her own food and the two waters on the side table. She reached out and nudged his shoulder gently. Marlie wasn't too concerned because Daryl really did need his rest. Him passing out wasn't entirely unexpected. But the man needed to eat if he expected to get better.

Poking him again, Marlie sat on the wooden chair beside the bed and ordered, "Wake up, or I'll talk about the deer."

The man groaned. "Not the deer."

Marlie snorted. "Then wake up."

"I am! I'm talkin', ain't I?"

"Alright, well, it's time to eat." She wasn't giving him a choice in the matter. Assertively, Marlie pushed the plate towards his prone form. "The gals made potatoes and veggies. I never thought I'd see another potato in my life." She smiled and began digging into her meal.

Daryl was quick to follow and in under a few minutes, the pair had eaten every piece of food on their plates. "Got any water?" he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

She nodded and handed him his glass, while she chugged her own. "My god, you inhaled your dinner!"

"Can't say you're any better."

Marlie glanced down at her spotless plate. It looked as though she'd licked the damn thing clean, but she couldn't recall doing such a thing. Although, the meal had been practically intoxicating, so maybe she _had_ licked it clean. She just couldn't remember. "Hm," Marlie said, a smirk on her face. "It would appear that we were both starved after a fruitful expedition through the forest."

Daryl eyed her for a second before bursting into laughter. Thank goodness the door was close, or else the others in the house would have had their meals disrupted.

The young woman wasn't entirely sure why he was laughing so much all of a sudden. Had she said something funny, or was he just happy to safe and sound and out of the woods? Whatever the reason, Marlie laughed with him for many moments before the giggling finally tapered off. She sighed and smiled widely at Daryl.

"I haven't laughed so hard in a long time."

Marlie nodded. "Me neither. It was nice." She took Daryl's dishes and put them aside before crawling into the bed with him, tucking her shoeless feet beneath the cottony comforter and nestling close to Daryl's pillow.

Feeling her warmth so close to him, the hunter realized how much he missed it. Granted, she'd slept beside him in the RV the night before, but that seemed so long ago. So much had happened since then. He could have lost her back in the forest. Could have lost her so many times, but he hadn't. She was still there, cozy in the bed next to him. With delicate fingers, Daryl brushed several brown curls off of Marlie's cheek. He kissed her forehead gently and let her nuzzle beneath his chin.

"I never actually thought I'd get attached to another person again," Marlie admitted in a whisper, closing her eyes with sleepiness and minding the stitches in her head.

Daryl breathed deeply, matching his heartbeat to the woman against him. "What happened?"

"I met you."

He smiled and closed his eyes, inhaling her scent and praying that she never had to leave.

Carol crept in a short time later, but turned to leave at the sight of Marlie snuggled up close to Daryl. But when the hunter made eye contact with her in the dimly lit room, she paused. "She asleep?" the older woman asked quietly.

Daryl looked down at Marlie and watched her chest rise and fall slowly, peacefully. "Yeah," he rasped. He would be, too, as soon as Carol left. He didn't necessarily mind her being there, but it was late and he was tired.

"You need to know somethin'," she said, lingering by the door. "You did more for my little girl today than her own daddy ever did in his whole life."

Turning back to Marlie and repositioning himself gently beside her, Daryl responded, "I didn't do anythin' Rick or Shane wouldn't have done."

"I know," Carol said matter-of-factly. "You're every bit as good as them. Every bit." She flicked the light switch beside the door and left, leaving Marlie to sleep and Daryl to replay Carol's words in his head.

He hadn't noticed it before, but Marlie was changing him. Slowly, but surely, he was gaining positivity, happiness, and even love from the woman sleeping beside him. Daryl was morphing into someone he had always wanted to be, but couldn't become in fear of changing how people looked at him. Daryl liked the tough guy, lone wolf persona, but he was beginning to prefer his selflessness and protective streak.

Kindly, he placed a heartfelt kiss onto Marlie's crown and nestled down onto the shared pillow to fall asleep. It may not have been the night that he had originally planned on, but it would do just fine.

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><p>Finally, three chapters later and "Chupacabra" is finished! Onto work on the next chapters! :)<p> 


	11. Look Forward to the Good Days

Another chapter and episode complete. I focused more on Marlie for this one, doing practically the entire chapter in her perspective. Yeah, most of the chapters are like that anyway, but...well...just read on. :) I apologize for not posting this yesterday, but I took an unofficial break from writing _anything_ all day. It was hard, because I had so many one shot ideas for all kinds of things, but I restrained myself. it ended up being kinda nice. Anyway, without further delay, here is another chapter! Comment, enjoy, be happy. :)

DISCLAIMER: I do not own _The Walking Dead_ or any of its characters. However, Marlie is of my own creation, so no stealing this sassy woman, please. :P

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><p><em>Necessary Knowledge to Survive a Zombie Apocalypse<em>

Chapter Ten: Look Forward to the Good Days; They Do Exist

The next forty-eight hours proved fruitful for everyone. At least, _almost_ everyone. The wound on Daryl's side had been treated quickly enough to prevent infection. Already, he had been feeling well enough to move out of Hershel's home and into a tent that Marlie had situated for him.

Carl was on his feet again, too, but was kept under close watch from both of his parents. After several, gut-wrenching days, he was finally out of the woods.

The rest of the group helped around the ranch and tidied up the little camp sight that they had dubbed as their own, positioned comfortably beneath several shady trees.

But Marlie was the least happy of them all. Sure, Daryl was feeling better and looking better, too, but there was still Andrea to deal with. The bitch had shot Daryl Dixon and there was no way in hell that that little incident was going to slide. It didn't matter that the blonde had missed or that Daryl was still alive. All she knew was that if Andrea stepped one foot too close, Marlie was going to snap.

"You're sexy when you're mad, did ya know that?"

Marlie was filling a plastic bottle with water beside Daryl's makeshift bed and her shoulders slumped at his statement.

"Seriously, though, Andrea was just lookin' out for the group."

Sighing, Marlie distracted herself by watching the hunter poke holes in the plastic window of the tent. "She shot you."

"I ain't dead."

"But she shot you."

Daryl sat up. "She _grazed_ me."

"Why are you sticking up for her?" Marlie snapped, confused. "She shot you! If she had just stopped being cocky for _one minute_ and let Rick and Shane deal with it, then you I wouldn't hate her so much." She stood up quickly and walked towards the tent's exit, no longer wanting to talk about it about anymore. She needed another distraction and watching Daryl stab holes into things wasn't cutting it for her.

"Where you goin'?" he asked, putting the arrow down.

Turning, Marlie answered, "I'm gonna look for that cat."

He snorted. "Whatever. Just don't go pickin' a fight."

"No promises," Marlie mumbled when she was out of the tent. Of course she wasn't going to storm after Andrea. The bitch was learning how to properly use a gun now and for all Marlie knew, she'd get shot next if she confronted the blonde woman. So she set out to do exactly what she'd told Daryl—look for the barn cat that he'd seen a few days prior.

A familiar voice caught up to her before she could even leave the cool shade of camp. "Hey, Marlie!"

She inhaled deeply at the sound of Rick's voice and her pace quickened when he hurried up beside her.

"Wait," he said calmly, but reluctantly stepped in front of the young woman when she didn't bother slowing down for him. "Could you stop for a sec?"

A drop of sweat fell into one of Marlie's blue eyes and she rubbed it away while she impatiently waited for Rick to speak. It wasn't like she was angry with him or anything; Marlie just knew the reason he was confronting her. "If it's about Andrea, I don't want to talk about it."

"It _is_ about Andrea and you _will_ listen," the deputy said sternly, pointing a finger at Marlie.

She straightened her shoulders, sensing the assertive tone in Rick's voice.

Rubbing his neck, the officer said, "Now I know you're mad about what happened to Daryl and you have a right to be, but it was an accident. Andrea's apologizin' to him right now and—"

Marlie's head whipped around. Sure enough, Andrea was poking her blonde head into Daryl's tent. Something bit at the edges of Marlie's heart like a venomous snake. She had never been so pissed in her entire life. When a hand fell onto her shoulder, she spun back around to give Rick an unsatisfied expression.

He sighed. "She's wants to apologize to you, too, Marlie. You best let her."

"Yeah, well, maybe when the pigs start flying I'll consider it." Her arms crossed over her chest as she glanced back over at the tent.

Rick shook his head. "Not good enough. She—"

"Shot Daryl," Marlie finished with a bite. "I don't care that she wants to say 'sorry'. Honestly, I don't. I'll be calmer once I have some time alone. In the meantime, please keep Andrea away from me. I can't promise that I'll be able to control myself if she gets too close." Every word was the complete and utter truth. Marlie knew, without a doubt, that something bad would happen if Andrea tried to approach her before she had the proper amount of cool down time.

In a stern voice, Rick asserted, "Don't do somethin' you'll regret, Marlie. I _will_ restrain you if I have to."

She snorted humorlessly. "Whatever."

"I'm serious," he added, slightly irritated. It wasn't like Marlie to make threats against other people; listening to her now worried him. It wasn't that difficult to see that she and Daryl had a thing between them and that both would stop at nothing to protect each other. But that wouldn't excuse any negative actions that might take place later on between Marlie and Andrea. He wasn't about to let members of his group fight over something that could have been. After all, Daryl was alive and getting better every hour. What was there to be angry about?

Marlie sighed. "Please, Rick," she practically begged. "Keep Andrea away from me. Please."

The officer rubbed the bridge of his nose stressfully. "Fine," he finally said. "Fine, but don't go lookin' for trouble. You hear?"

The young woman nodded. Her path was unblocked a moment later and she carried on towards the stables in search of the feline that Daryl had mentioned a few days ago.

But almost as if to say that her patience could still be tried, Hershel crossed paths with Marlie before she could make it to the horse stables. He wore the same stiff face, like always, and it irritated Marlie further.

"What do you need in the barn?" he asked curiously.

Marlie gulped. The last she wanted was to get in trouble _again_. Her brain was already wracked with other worries and concerns. "Daryl said he saw a cat in there. I was just going to go look for it." She faked an innocent smile.

"Cat, huh? Was she sleepin' in the hay?"

The young woman nodded, recalling where Daryl had said he'd seen it. "Is it yours?"

Hershel shook his head. "No. Just a stray that wandered into the stables earlier this summer. Sleeps in the hay, catches mice around the property, leaves the chickens alone. She's a good cat."

Finally, something nice to think about, Marlie mused. Her favorite animal, on the farm, safe and apparently very content.

"If you're headin' out that way, then why don't you put a bale of hay in each stable for the horses?"

Marlie thought she noticed a hint of favor-asking in his tone. Somehow, it made her feel worthy, like she was earning her keep and gaining the old man's trust back. With a genuine grin, she said, "Yeah, no problem."

"And don't forget to put some in Nelly and Abacus's stalls," Hershel added, adjusting his sun-blocking, farmer's hat.

Marlie's brows wrinkled.

"They'll be back. They know the way home." He turned away then and headed back to the house.

Her blue gaze followed the sundrenched tree line along Mr. Greene's property, almost hoping that the two "borrowed' horses would come trotting back. She wondered if that's what they'd really do. They were fast on their feet, so outrunning a couple of walkers wouldn't be too difficult. Maybe they'd make it back okay.

The stable barn was typical of any other Marlie had ever seen. The building smelled of wood and horse manure. Dust particles tickled her nose and she sneezed loudly before she was even two steps in. It startled a couple of the horses, but they recovered quickly and trotted up to their gates, silently begging Marlie for food.

She reached up to a brown steed's stall and gently stroked its long snout. "Hungry?" she asked with a small smile. Behind her were several loads of hay piled onto each other into a metal crate. But Marlie found no cat resting there. With a shrug, she realized that it actually didn't matter to her whether or not the feline was around. She'd been given a new task of feeding the horses, something she was skilled at and happy to do, and she quickly forgot about the cat.

When every horse had a bale of hay, including the two missing steeds, Marlie moved onto replacing their buckets of water. The pales were heavy, but the animals had to drink. By the time she had dumped out every water bucket and put them back, filled and fresh from the well, every muscle in Marlie's arms was burning. Sweat dribbled down her face and back like a leaking faucet. Hay dust and dirt stuck to every part her and mused at how lovely a shower would feel right then.

Giving one last pat to each of the horses, Marlie headed out of the barn. A frail little meow spun her around. High up on one of the stable's rafters walked a petite kitty with calico coloration. Marlie smiled, more glad than she thought she'd be at the sight of the cat. "Come here, kitty kitty," she called in a kind voice.

With a squeak, the feline bounced between the many wooden beams, onto a stall gate, and finally onto the concrete floor. Her tail was high and swishing lightly as she trotted up beside the young woman standing there. There was a hesitance as she approached, but was otherwise unafraid.

"Are you a nice cat?" Marlie asked, feeling a little silly speaking to a cat. Then again, nobody else was around and she doubted that the horses would care. Crouching down slowly, Marlie reached out to the calico, whose golden yellow eyes stared back shyly. She made kissy noises to further attract the animal.

But the cat wasn't in the mood to be pet. She backed away from Marlie, meowed loudly, and watched as the woman shrugged and stood up.

"Alright, you know where to find me if you change your mind." She rolled her eyes at herself for having just spoken to a cat as though it was a person. It was better than nothing, though. And the horses were too interested in feasting and drinking to provide any kind of conversation for Marlie, so that feline had most certainly been better than nothing at all.

Waving stupidly, Marlie left the barn and wandered into the warm sun. She wondered how long she'd been in there, since the sun was already at the other side of the clear sky. Hours, Marlie realized. But every second had been worth it. She had possibly earned back some trust from Hershel by taking care of the horses, the fiery anger built up inside had dwindled to a dull flame, and now she was going to go spend the rest of the day with Daryl, who certainly wouldn't mind the company.

And for a moment, it was as though Marlie had no reason to be upset with Andrea. For a moment, they were on good terms. But then her name was called and Marlie recognized the voice instantly. There was a slim figure approaching quickly and Marlie brought a hand up to her forehead to get the sun out of her eyes. She frowned deeply at the sight of the blonde. Already, the stitches in her temple were beginning to pound.

"Marlie, hey," the blonde woman said kindly, stopping in front of Marlie.

Growing irritated with the fact that everyone felt the need to step _in front_ of her all the time, Marlie weaved around the other woman impatiently.

Andrea was beside her in an instant. "Hey, I know how you must be feeling."

"No you don't," Marlie muttered, still frowning.

"Well, I can _imagine_ it."

She snorted and shook her head. "I really don't feel like talking right now, Andrea." Even the woman's name set her off.

Andrea didn't care, though. She crossed paths with Marlie a second time and refused to let her pass. "Will you just listen to me?"

"Do I have to?" Marlie asked sarcastically, the fire in her heart returning even hotter than before. "Because I'm thirsty and I want to get back to camp."

Without hesitation, the blonde woman handed Marlie a water bottle.

"I don't want your water, Andrea." She tried to step around again, only to be further blocked. Marlie closed her eyes and breathed deeply, an attempt to calm herself down.

"I want to apologize."

"And I told Rick to keep you away from me."

Andrea nodded. "Yeah, he told me. But I'm still gonna apologize." Her slender hands went to her hips and she cocked her head slightly.

Marlie's arms folded over themselves, waiting. "Well?"

"I'm sorry."

"Great. I'm leaving now."

"No!" Andrea said, a little too loudly for her own liking. Her hand went up to Marlie's chest to prevent her from escaping. "I said I was sorry. What else do you want from me?"

"I want you to not touch me, for one." Marlie glared into Andrea's eyes until she finally lowered her hand. "Secondly, I think you should let Rick and Shane carry the guns from now on. You obviously haven't figured out how to use one properly." There was a venom in her words that, for a moment, she regretted. But only for a moment. Andrea deserved Marlie's harsh words.

Andrea looked at the younger woman with brows furrowed and a disgusted expression etched into her mouth. "I know _exactly_ how to use a gun. If the sun hadn't been in my face, I coulda aimed better."

"Really? And you still would have pulled the trigger on Daryl?"

"You know I wouldn't," Andrea huffed, slightly irritated. "If you don't wanna accept my apology, then don't. Daryl did; I just thought you'd do the same."

Her fists clenched at the sound of the hunter's name. "No, I don't have to accept _anything_ from you. I don't have to forgive you right now and I certainly don't have to talk to you." God! She just wanted to walk away and go scream into a pillow and wait until nightfall when she could snuggle up close to Daryl's warm body and fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. That sounded so wonderful, but Andrea was preventing her from doing anything. It was getting beyond frustrating.

"You don't have to be a bitch about it. It's not like I killed him."

Her fists squeezed tightly until her nails cut into her naked palms. Through gritted teeth, Marlie locked eyes with Andrea and suggested, "Don't quit your day job, Andrea; stick with washing clothes." The conversation was over and Marlie decided that it was time to remove herself from Andrea's presence before something bad happened.

It didn't matter; Andrea's fist connected with Marlie's cheek and slid over it painfully. It wasn't a direct hit, which saved the blonde's hand from getting broken, but it was enough for retaliation.

Marlie's head snapped to the side from the impact, but her own fist was up a moment later. She threw her tired left arm forward and connected her center knuckle to Andrea's eye. Luckily for the blonde, Marlie had used up most of her strength to tend to the horses, weakening the punch enough to keep her own hand in one piece, although her knuckles would definitely be bruised.

Both women stumbled back, breathing heavily as Rick and Shane and several other witnesses swiftly made their way over to them.

Something strange happened to Marlie then. Instead of rushing Andrea for another punch—or visa versa—Marlie hung back and caught her breath. She could feel the familiar sensation of blood rolling down her left cheek. There was a painful pulse where she placed her finger on the cut. It stung against the touch and she flinched, but otherwise, she felt good. Not angry, not furious, not regretful. Marlie was surprised to feel peaceful. It was like all of her unhappiness towards Andrea had gone along with the punch and now that it was over, all of those negative feelings went away with it.

And Andrea had the same sensation. She was panting at the adrenaline that had accompanied the attack, but she was calmer than she had been all day.

"Marlie!" Rick shouted.

She cocked a brow at him. The fight was over and that was that. Submissively, Marlie raised her hands to show that she was finished. Much to her surprise, Andrea did the same. Marlie cringed at the woman's face, now that there was a swollen shiner growing rapidly around Andrea's right eye.

Rick was quick to step between the two women, who suddenly appeared to be okay. "I told you _both_ to play nice," he growled, frowning deeply.

"What the hell is goin' on?" Shane took a step forward.

Behind them, back in the camp, Marlie watched Daryl emerge from the tent and make eye contact with her. She shifted uncomfortably beneath his gaze and turned away. Sighing, Marlie said coolly, "We had a…scuffle," eyeing Andrea calmly, without the fiery gaze that she held earlier. "But it's over."

"_Definitely_ over. It's nothin' to worry about, Rick."

The officer eyed the two curiously, brows furrowed in confusion. He tilted his head slightly at Marlie, hardly believing that everything was suddenly alright.

"Well how do we know that you two ain't just gonna swing around and 'scuffle' again?" Shane asked, disbelievingly.

"Because we said we won't," Andrea answered immediately, glancing over at Marlie as if nothing had happened.

Rick sighed and shook her head. "I don't quite understand this new peace between you two, but as long as no more fists fly, you can go." He stepped aside and nodded at Shane and T-Dog, who were blocking the two women from leaving freely. "Get your faces looked at by Hershel some time today, please."

No one said anything more.

With a calm feeling nestling itself deep into her stomach, Marlie walked back to her tent with Andrea following behind her. They were quiet, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. Just peaceful. Marlie smiled crookedly at Daryl, whose brows wrinkled slightly.

Andrea nodded to them both before disappearing into the RV to get ready to join Shane on a Sophia-hunting expedition.

The rest of the camp watched them before losing interest and carrying on with the day's chores.

"What happened?" Daryl asked when Andrea was gone. He brushed a finger beneath the cut on her cheek with extreme gentleness.

Marlie shrugged. "Andrea and I exchanged words and then fists, but I think we're on good terms now."

"How did that happen?"

"Not exactly sure, but I'm okay with it. I _hate_ having enemies."

Daryl nodded slowly. "It was an accident, you know."

She frowned slightly. "Yeah, I know. But it was the thought of almost losing you that just…I don't know…it set me off." It was strange, really, because Marlie had always considered herself a passive soul, choosing words over violence any day. But she had also never been so mad in her entire life. She'd only punched one other person before and that had been back in third grade when she was sticking up for a bullied friend.

Daryl sighed and kissed her forehead. "Well, I'm still around, but I told her that if she shot me again, she best hope I'm dead."

There was a silly little grin on his face that melted Marlie inside and made her forget about anything bad that had happened the last few days. After all, there was so much to be happy about. Daryl was recovering, she'd made amends with Andrea, and was possibly on good terms again with Hershel.

Almost as a sign that things could continue to get better, Marlie heard the telltale sign of heavy footfalls. She broke away from Daryl to look beyond the camp. "Daryl," she breathed with a growing smile. "Guess whose back?"

With curiosity, Daryl followed Marlie's blue gaze and saw two horses galloping out from the woods and happily making their way around the field towards the stable barn. "Well I'll be damned."

"Hershel said they'd find their way home. I would go welcome them back, but I have a feeling they hate us now."

Daryl shook his head and laughed, flinching when the pain in his side acted up. "I was hoping they'd be long gone, the fuzzy bastards."

The young woman beside him giggled. "Outta the country, right?" she asked, using Daryl's words from a couple of nights before.

He nodded. "Yeah."

"And I found the cat, by the way. She was in the barn, watching me feed and water the horses. A pretty little calico with no name."

"Hershel's?"

"Nope. Just a stray. Kind of shy and vocal."

Daryl smirked and turned to Marlie. "You wanna get that checked out?" he asked, indicating the cut on her face.

"Nah," Marlie replied simply. She wiped away the blood that had dribbled down her cheek and winced slightly when her hand touched the wound. She'd clean it out and smack a Band-Aid on it. "I can handle a scratch."

"Alright," he stated reluctantly. "So what are your plans for the rest of the day?"

Marlie cocked a brow at him.

"Any plans for tonight?"

She knew what he was hinting at, but with a heavy heart, Marlie said, "You were shot a couple days ago, Daryl, and stabbed with an arrow. I think you're gonna need to rest a little while longer before…you know." It killed a little piece of her to say that, because honestly, Marlie had one hell of a night back at the CDC, when she and Daryl had been drunk and allowed crazy things to happen. She wanted more crazy things to happen, especially now that there were condoms! But he was still too weak, still too hurt to do a whole lot of anything. That being said, there were no rules against shower sharing.

When Daryl's face fell a little, Marlie added, "But I'm going to need to get cleaned up at some point today." There was a clever grin on her faces as she looked up at Daryl.

He returned the smile with his own and nodded. "After dinner, would you say?"

Marlie shook her head. "Before, or else everyone's going to loose their appetite with me at the table," she joked.

Daryl smirked. "If I say yes, will ya get your face looked at by Hershel? It could get infected."

Since when did anybody care about a tiny little scrape, Daryl least of all? He had been speared by his own arrow, grazed by a bullet, and hit his head during his initial fall back in the woods. What had Marlie gone through? I bumped head and now a punched cheek. Awesome. Daryl just had this ridiculously irresistible caring part of him that wanted to be sure that she was never _not_ okay. A cut cheek wasn't merely a scratch for him. It was a painful abrasion that needed to be treated so that Marlie wouldn't have to suffer any more. It was one of many things she had easily grown to love about him.

"Fine," she gave in with a sigh. "I'm going to go put Frick and Frack back in their stalls." When Daryl raised a fuzzy brown brow, Marlie shook her head. "I know they hate us, but there's fresh hay and water and Hershel might not be so willing to ring my neck if I get his horses back in their place."

Daryl chuckled. "I'll help."

"Yeah right," Marlie mused. "Get back in the tent and rest. Seriously."

"I've been stuck in that tent all day. I'm coming with you." And that was final. He accompanied Marlie to the stables where, not unexpectedly, awaited Abacus and Nervous Nelly. "No hard feelin's?" the hunter asked quietly, stroking Nelly's snout.

The animal snorted, but otherwise remained calm as Daryl led him into the stall.

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><p>A couple of more chapters and this half of the season will be complete! I'll have a lot of one shots and nice little scenes between Daryl and Marlie popping up occasionally after I'm finished with this story, because I cannot just stop writing about this couple. Until then, enjoy what's left of this fic and comment comment comment, my dear readers! :D<p> 


	12. Safety First

Sorry that this chapter isn't as long as the others, but I think it's probably just as good. A warning to the anti-sex readers, respectively: there is some more intense love-making in this one. I was modest the last time, but I know many readers voted for rougher sex, so here's you go, guys! I think one more chapter after this should finish off the half-season pretty nicely. One shots will follow eventually...probably. :)

DISCLAIMER: Never ever have I owned _The Walking Dead_ and I never ever will, which is depressing. Although I'd settle for Daryl and be happy.

P.S.: The first person to message me the _PSYCH_ quote reference in this chapter gets a free imaginary cookie and a high-five! Can't beat that! :D

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><p><em>Necessary Knowledge to Survive a Zombie Apocalypse<em>

Chapter Eleven: Safety First

Dinner was extravagant, as usual. Had their not been a walker apocalypse going on at the time, the dinner would probably _still _be extravagant. Tomato soup and sandwiches may not have sounded very fantastic, but since Hershel and his family grew all of their own vegetables, the meal was pristine.

Marlie couldn't even remember what tomatoes tasted it like, but her palate was pleasantly reminded. There was a content sparkle in her eyes during the entire meal, but that could have also been the time in the shower still working its way through her nerves.

**One hour previous**

"How did you sneak past Hershel?" Daryl asked with a goofy smirk, standing just inside the doorway of the upstairs bathroom.

Marlie smiled craftily. "I told him the truth."

"You _what?_"

The young woman smirked, revealing her lie. "Just kidding. I just said we'd be getting cleaned up for dinner. Not too much information." Just enough to keep the old man from disturbing them.

There was a condom in Daryl's pocket and it was screaming to be released, and the hunter would be glad to oblige. With a sense of much-needed calm, he took Marlie's hand and led her into the bathroom.

A cool, late afternoon breeze crept beneath the door and wound itself around Marlie. Goosebumps fled up her arms and down her legs as Daryl assisted her in undressing. She raised her arms up over her head as he slid her dirtied camouflage tank top off, throwing it carelessly on the linoleum floor. He turned her around then and unhooked her grey sports bra, taking care to kiss her shoulders as the piece dropped to her feet. A photograph fell as well, and Daryl scooped it up gently.

"My mom and I," Marlie informed solemnly.

Daryl placed the picture onto the ceramic sink and kissed the young woman softly on the lips, a reassuring, comforting gesture.

The blue jeans and panties were the last to go a moment later, leaving Marlie completely open to Daryl as he stripped down beside her, remembering to remove the condom from his pants before discarding the jeans onto the growing pile of filthy clothes.

They stared at each other for while, taking in every bit of detail on each of their bodies.

Daryl reached out slowly and put his warm palm to the side of Marlie's chest, guiding his hand down her body and along her hourglass curves. She was slim, but not grossly so, and her skin was pale where her clothes usually covered. Her slender arms were tanned from constant exposure to the Georgian sun, which also helped smooth her skin, eliminating any imperfections. The scars on wrists were still healing, but he had grown accustomed to their presence and often found him observing them when Marlie wasn't aware. There was a set of brown freckles that circled halfway around her naval and enticed Daryl even more. He lightly brushed his thumb over them before finding a dark blue bruise on her lower abdomen, which she probably acquired during her fall down the slope. There was another bruise up on her shoulder, one that Daryl traced delicately before tucking a ringlet curl behind the woman's pierced ear. "There's two now," he said quietly, remembering that Marlie had lost the back to one earring a couple days before.

She smiled, pressing her cheek into Daryl's palm. "Maggie let me borrow a backing from her mother." She stepped closer to the hunter then, taking care as to not press herself against his wounded side, where the bandage had been removed and revealed several black stitches. The wrap around his head and also been taken off, but the grazed flesh blended in with his light hair, rendering it relatively unnoticeable. Marlie got up onto the tips of toes and pecked his forehead sweetly, feeling the hunter's shaft press up against her stomach.

"Thanks," Daryl whispered. "Feels better already."

Marlie snorted and sighed against his cheek, flinching slightly when her own un-bandaged, stitched forehead touched his. She suddenly remembered why she was there and smiled. Grabbing the condom on the counter, Marlie placed a stern hand on Daryl's chest and backed him up into the shower, closing the curtain behind them.

There was en eagerness in the atmosphere around them that had both their hearts pumping and their nerves giddy with anticipation. When the showerhead was switched on, and the cool water began pouring down their exposed bodies, the excitement was bumped up to a whole new level.

Daryl avoided the water as he opened up the rubber and rolled it protectively over himself. His bottom lip quivered slightly when Marlie brushed a handful of lotion along his length from a bottle that sat uselessly in the corner. He proceeded to crane his neck down to meet her eager lips. They were soft to the touch and tasted like earth and carried in them an urgency that envenomed Daryl like a poison. He could feel it sink into his veins, could feel it pumping into his heart and finally his brain. And finally, there was nothing but Marlie. Nothing in the world but the woman standing before him, caressing his lips with a burning passion that he, too, had inside him.

She felt him weasel his tongue behind her teeth and tickle the insides of her cheeks. With minds of their own, Marlie's arms slid around his neck while Daryl's wrapped around her waist protectively, dragging her close to him until there was zero distance between them.

And then he was inside her.

A trembling shook the marrow in Marlie's bones and sent the tiny blonde hairs on the back of her neck to stand out. Her kisses became stronger, sterner, more demanding, as though she wanted to be as close to Daryl as humanly possible. She was spun around then and pushed him under the cascading water.

It cooled them down as their bodies heated up like a rising fire. They were hotter than the Georgian sun, exchanging warmth and more.

Marlie's breath hitched when Daryl pulled out halfway, his length rubbing smoothly against the woman's insides. If he was just teasing her, then she wasn't going to have any of that. With surprising force, Marlie spun the hunter around and slammed him against one wall of the shower, pressing herself against him and feeling relieved when he slid back in.

Daryl smirked at her fierceness. It had been a long time since he'd been with anybody; any woman who cared enough to stick around usually found that he was too much of a hard-ass to linger for much longer. But the moment he met Marlie back in the woods just outside of Atlanta those many days ago, Daryl knew she was not like the others. She held her shoulders higher than most, despite her initial hesitance and shyness around the group. She always had a positive outlook on everything, no matter how bad the situations became. And most importantly, for Daryl at least, was that this woman saw something worth clinging to with him. He was jerk, a sarcastic son of a bitch and Marlie liked him anyway. There was no doubt he would be in for a ride with this woman.

How right he had been! What started off as a simple, reluctant bonding quickly escalated into a full-fledged fling. There was no doubt in Daryl's mind that the rest of the group could see it. After the night back at the CDC, it was practically a given that something was forming between him and Marlie.

Now that had shown quite clearly. They were no longer two separate people drawn together by some mushy lovey feelings. No, they were had become a single entity, thinking and acting together as one person.

Marlie and Daryl had, quite effectively, fallen in love.

It wasn't the act itself taking place in the shower that gave away the fact. It was the urgency, the _need_ for the act, as though without it, the pair would break apart and crumble like ashes in the rain.

Gently at first before becoming more diligent, Daryl withdrew and pushed in against Marlie, his hips grinding against hers as he read her expression for any signs of displeasure.

There were none, so he repeated with growing force until their bodies were shivering and tingling.

As the water caressed down Marlie's body, drenching the cut on her cheek, the bump on her head, the bruises and scratches and freckles and dimples, Marlie held on tightly to Daryl. She sighed, half growling into his ear as she nibbled playfully on it. A smile grew on her lips when she felt his body shudder. Her fingers nimbly trailed down his back before making their way back up and into his drenched hair. Water dripped into her electrifying blue eyes, of which Daryl was quick to kiss away before nuzzling sweetly into her neck.

He bit her then, pinching her warm, damp skin between his teeth with a devilish smile.

Marlie yelped in surprised and pulled away slightly, scoffing at the greedy grin on the hunter's face. "Ow," she said with a smile of her own. "Watch the teeth."

"While you get to bite my ear?" Daryl wondered, shaking his head. "I don't think so." And he dove back into her neck.

In mock retaliation, Marlie clamped down on his lobe, holding on for several seconds before finally relinquishing the ear and deciding to settle for a tight embrace instead. She remembered her family then, the people she had lost before the apocalypse. Her friends, acquaintances, cat. As much as she wanted to cry for them, Marlie kept herself from doing so. There was a man in her arms, nuzzled goofily against her neck. While she had lost a lot so far, Marlie was still gaining things, as well.

Still clinging to Daryl with her head on his shoulder, she whispered, "I want to tell you something." Water flowed over her lips, gargling some of her speech.

Daryl quit his biting and stroking of the woman's body to look her straight in the eyes, residual tremors making their way down his body and into his length, which remained in the woman.

"And I hope it doesn't scare you."

His head cocked to the side and his arms tightened around Marlie. "Try me," he purred.

"But I think I'm going to wait until dinner." Marlie smiled cleverly, knowing exactly what the suspense would do to Daryl.

His shoulders slumped slightly and he frowned. "You really gonna do that to me?"

Marlie nodded and stole a quick kiss from his wet lips, relishing the taste of hay dust and forest that refused to wash away in the shower.

"In that case," Daryl began, pulling back, "I guess we better hurry up and go eat." Without giving Marlie the chance to object, he removed himself completely and rolled off the jimmy with ease.

The urge to smack him just then was overpowering, but Marlie kept the abuse to herself and settled for washing the man, instead, carefully rubbing soap across his muscular torso, down his stomach and beyond, while he did the same to her.

"What have you been doing outside?" Daryl asked with furrowed brows as he watched twigs and leaves and hay straws gather around the clogging drain.

Marlie blushed slightly, realizing just how dirty she had become. "Er, apparently rolling in mud piles and climbing up trees."

He snorted and shut off the water when the pair was rinsed and fresh. There were two towels sitting on the toilet seat just outside of the shower, one of which Daryl grabbed and wrapped around Marlie chivalrously as he embraced himself in the other.

And there were fresh clothes on the floor beside the pile of dirty ones, borrowed to them by Maggie and Jimmy, Hershel's "adopted" son. Marlie had never felt so clean in her entire life. Or so happy, to be completely honest.

Abashed, she removed the sticks and leaves that had fallen out of her hair in the shower and threw them out. Then she reached into a cupboard beneath the sink and removed a box of gauze and a roll of white tape. "Hershel said to put fresh bandages on after the shower," Marlie informed when she caught sight of a curious Daryl. "I'll do you if you do me." When a devilish smile crossed Daryl's lips, Marlie shook her head. "You know what I mean."

"Do I?" the hunter asked coyly.

Marlie smirked and bandaged up the man's arrow wound and forehead while he got to work on the cut on her temple. "Both spots are healing up nicely."

Nodding, Daryl agreed. "Same for yours. Don't know how you keep 'em clean when you're rollin' around in the mud, though," he joked as he began dressing himself.

Marlie followed suit. "Haha, funny. I really don't know how I managed to get branches in my hair."

"Talent, apparently."

Marlie nodded. "You know that's right," she said as the scent of tomato soup wafted up to her nose. Her stomach snarled a moment later. "Dinner?" she asked, snatching up the dirty clothes on the floor.

"After you," insisted Daryl, opening the bathroom door for Marlie and following closely behind her as they made their way downstairs.

The dinner table was in the process of being set, so the pair took that time to drop their clothes off outside at the camp to be cleaned later on after they ate. Discretely, Marlie wrote something onto a slip of paper in her and Daryl's tent before heading off. She and the hunter accompanied Rick, Lori, Shane and Andrea—who had returned from their unsuccessful Sophia-search—T-Dog, Carl, Dale, Glenn, and Carol. The gang shuffled into the house and, again, filled the two dining tables set out for them.

Hershel had been kind in letting them all feast in his house again, despite the fact that he had plans on kicking them all off his property once Carl and Daryl were better. Still, he'd be lying if she said that the extra company was unwelcomed.

Marlie took a seat across from Daryl, beside Glenn and Carl. She smiled sheepishly at him each time their eyes made contact. When he asked for the soup halfway through the meal, Marlie happily obeyed, pushing her secret paper between his fingers.

With intense curiosity, Daryl put the paper in his lap and read it. At first, he made no expression, showed no signs of interest or care, but then he glanced up and met Marlie's ocean gaze. Barely noticeably, one corner of his mouth rose slightly. He winked at the young woman in front of him then.

Marlie's heart leapt into her throat. Such a simple thing was a wink, but it conveyed so much.

In the hunter's lap rested the paper.

It read, "Please, be mine."

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><p>Did anyone catch the <em>PSCYH<em> reference? :D Message me if you did!

It's gonna be a little sad to not have to write chapters until February. I'll try and keep you guys hanging on, though, with snippets of Daryl and Marlie, just to keep you interested. Until then, tell me what you think about the story so far! Any suggestions/ideas/etc for the final chapter of the final episode? Feel free to comment your thoughts or private message me!


	13. Be Realistic, Not Optimistic

Oh. My. God. Here it is. The epic-and long-conclusion to this story. It took a long time to write this, but every second was worth it. I was tearing up at the end and those of you who haven't seen the mid-season finale need to do so before you read this because there are MAJOR spoilers for the episode. I just want to say that it's been so fun and wonderful writing about _The Walking Dead_. I don't regret a single second. And without you guys reviewing and favoriting, I wouldn't have wanted to continue on. So thank you all for that! Now, as I've mentioned before, I AM NOT DONE WRITING! I'll be making little one-shots between Daryl and Marlie and once the show picks back up in February, I will begin again! So fear not, everyone. This is not the end!

Now, go forth, read, review, cry. I know I did. :P

DISCLAIMER: I don't own _The Walking Dead_.

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><p><em>Necessary Knowledge to Survive a Zombie Apocalypse<em>

Chapter Twelve: Be Realistic, Not Optimistic

_Blood. So much blood. I've never realized how much a human body could hold until now, now that the entirety of my mother's contents is spilled all over the dash, the steering wheel, the driver's seat…The face of the creature digging deep into her left side._

_ It's snarling and feasting while I'm huddled in a ball in the backseat behind Jack, trembling with wide eyes, crying quietly as to not call attention to myself. The basic, unconscious human instinct to survive, even though I'm better off dead now._

_ Jack's not breathing. Not breathing. I already checked for a pulse, for warm breath. There's nothing._

_ My phone is in my hands now and I'm shakily trying to dial the authorities, but my fingers won't work. They stumble and slip all over the keypad. I'm crying louder now, more frantically._

_ Near the front seat, the monster with pallid, rotting flesh looks up at me. Straight into my eyes. He growls ferociously._

_ Jack turns around then. I know it's impossible because I checked for signs of life and there were none whatsoever. But he's staring at me, blood pulsing from the gash in his head. "Run," he rasps, "Run."_

_ The creature looses interest in my mother and springs at me._

_ But my dented door is jammed and I scream._

TWDTWDTWD

A voice erupted loudly within the tent, scaring Marlie until she realized it was her own voice sounding. She sucked in a deep breath and gasped, sweat dribbling down her forehead and onto her nose. There were two hands shaking her shoulders then and she looked up to find Daryl staring at her worriedly.

Several pairs of footsteps hurried over to the tent, alerting Marlie to the sudden company.

Rick was quick to unzip the tent and peek inside, his knife at the ready. "Is everything okay?"

Marlie breathed heavily for a moment longer before swallowing hard. She nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine. I'm fine."

"Ya sure?" came Shane's voice.

"Yes, I'm sure. Bad dream." Marlie half smiled at Rick to reassure him.

With a sigh, Rick gave in and said, "Alright. Just makin' sure." He glanced over at a shirtless Daryl. "Breakfast is ready, so come out and eat." The officer smiled and walked away, Lori tucked under his arm.

Everyone else disappeared, as well.

Marlie inhaled deeply, trying to calm her frantically beating heart. She could feel her shoulders shaking beneath Daryl's comforting hand, and was not completely surprised when he asked,

"Are you sure you're alright?"

She shook her head and closed her eyes at the recollection of the nightmare. "I haven't had a dream like that in a long time," Marlie said quietly, but falling silent afterwards. She wasn't in the mood to go through the story of her family's death again.

Kissing her forehead kindly, Daryl suggested food, of which Marlie wanted nothing to do with.

Her appetite had been squished and the thought alone of eating caused her stomach to do flips. But she felt better once she stepped outside. The sun was barely over the trees and cast orange shadows along the fields and throughout the camp. It was heating up quickly, but right then, it was the perfect temperature. Not hot enough to sweat; not cold enough to freeze.

"Breakfast is ready," announced Carol quietly to the pair as they wandered over to the fire where scrambled eggs were sizzling on a black pan.

Marlie took one look and went green as she thought back on her dream. Before anyone could ask her what the problem was, she ran off behind the RV and vomited. Daryl was at her side in an instant, keeping her dangling curls out of the path of bile and rubbing little circles on her back. There were tears in her eyes when she was finished, but the young woman batted them away before they could fall.

There was a concerned expression on the hunter's face when she looked up at him. It would have been wrong to demand Marlie what her dream was about, but at the same time, maybe he could help. Maybe she'd feel better if she just—

"I dreamt of the night that my mom and brother died," she stated simply, leaning against the RV with closed eyes.

Daryl frowned deeply. "I'm sorry," he whispered beside her, pressing his muscular shoulder into hers.

There were several moments of silence that passed between them and Marlie was glad that nobody tried to interrupt the quiet by asking if everything was okay…again. Her nerves were beginning to relax as the sun rested comfortably over her cheekbones. But a smell crossed Marlie's nose and she lifted her head, inhaling deeply.

The hunter looked over at her. "You sure do that a lot, you know," he commented, curiously sniffing the air.

"After the accident, I could smell things a lot better. Something to do with hitting your head hard will sometimes increase people's senses."

He snorted lightly. "So you got a super sniffer."

Marlie agreed with a nod, her nose still pointing upward.

"What is it?"

She grimaced and her eyes widened. Instinctively, Marlie reached for her blade and scanned the area hastily.

Daryl's brows wrinkled. "What? Should I be concerned?"

"I think so," Marlie stated slowly. "Something smells like decay." She looked over at Daryl and added, "Like walkers. I thought I smelled them a couple days ago, too, but I wasn't sure."

"How sure are you now?"

Marlie shook her head and shrugged. "It could be anything. Maybe I'm imagining it," but she knew she wasn't. Walkers had a particularly ugly stench that was hard to mistake.

Daryl shifted uncomfortably at the thought and suddenly wished he'd grabbed his crossbow from the tent. "We should let the others know."

"No, it'll only freak them out. Lets just go have breakfast and we'll figure things out from there."

Daryl sighed. Damn this introverted woman. He shrugged and said, "Alright, but if you keep smelling 'em…"

"I know, I know. It's probably not anything to worry about, though." And with that, she let Daryl lead her back to the group.

They sat down beside a tent and Daryl asked if she had regained her appetite yet.

"A bite of eggs won't hurt," she stated and smiled when Daryl insisted on getting food for the both of them, even though Marlie was perfectly capable of doing things herself. When she saw Rick glance over at her, she told him, "I'm okay. Seriously," and began nibbling casually and slowly into her plate of food. She expected her stomach to reject the new contents, but instead, it grumbled and gladly accepted it.

Sitting a couple of yards away, Andrea was kneeled in the dirt, sharpening her blade. She looked over at Marlie, whose blue eyes met hers a moment later. "You wanna use this when I'm finished? It's workin' really well for mine," she said, indicating the grated sharpener in her hand.

With a small, friendly smile, Marlie nodded quickly. "That would be great. Thanks." She felt Daryl nudge her smoothly and she grinned over at him.

Glenn's voice drew Marlie's attention away from the hunter, however. "Um, guys?" he said, hesitation and nervousness lacing his words. "The barn's full of walkers."

The bite of eggs that had just gone into Marlie's mouth went flying back out at that moment. She sputtered and looked over at Glenn with wide eyes, her expression matching everyone else's. She turned to Daryl and frowned. God, how she hated being right.

Shane led the group to the barn hastily, wasting no time on the subject.

Marlie's heart raced as the older man peeked between two planks of wood on the barn door, her imagination, like always, providing frightening images of what was hidden within the structure.

"You cannot tell me you're alright with this," growled Shane as he stalked back to Rick.

"I'm _not_," replied the other officer, "but we're guests here. This isn't our land."

Lori, with her arms crossed unhappily, said, "We can't just sweep this under the rug."

"It ain't right," stated T-Dog, shaking his head at the barn full of undead monsters.

Shane was pacing angrily around the group, agitation evident in every step. "We either gotta go in there and make things right or we just gotta go now. We've been talkin' about Fort Bennin' for a long time and—"

"We can't leave."

"Why, Rick? Why?"

"Because my daughter's still out there." Carol looked at Shane with wrinkled brows and a solemn expression. Even as the words flowed gently from her mouth, there was a nearly invisible hint of hopelessness.

Marlie caught it. Just barely, but she heard it.

Shane sighed. "I think it's time that we start to consider the other possibilities."

"Shane!" exclaimed Rick, silencing the other man.

"We're not leaving Sophia behind," stated Marlie sternly. "We can't." Her arms folded over her breasts and she squinted against the bright sunlight coming through from the east. There were curious, hungry walkers strutting about behind the barn door and she eyed them anxiously before glaring back at Shane.

"We're so close to finding this little girl. I just found the damn doll a few days ago!" retorted Daryl. It was the first real evidence of Sophia and he'd be damned if it was just going to be thrown out by some buzz-cut, argumentative little cop.

"You found a doll, Daryl. That's it; a _doll_," Shane spat.

For a moment, Daryl just eyed the man, hardly believing what he was hearing. But the sudden urge to hit the asshole overcame him and she hurried forward, blurting, "You don't know what the _hell_ you're talkin' about!" Had Rick not intervened, fists would have surely gone flying.

"Hey!" the officer yelled, stepping between Shane and the hunter. "Alright, alright, enough."

Shane scoffed. "I'm just sayin' what needs to be said here!"

In the background of the verbal dispute taking place stood Marlie. Her eyes were back on the barn. The smell of death was stronger than ever and it played hell with the eggs in her stomach. She wasn't concerned about Daryl fighting with Shane just then; they could handle themselves. She was more focused on the fact that, sooner or later, the group would come to a decision about Sophia. Marlie prayed that the little girl was still out there somewhere, safe and okay, and that they'd find her soon, because the girl was running out of time.

Everybody knew that.

Meanwhile, Shane and Rick continued to argue like a couple of high schoolers. "And let me tell you something else, man!," the former spat out over Rick's shoulder, directly at Daryl. "If she was really out there and she saw you comin', with your buck knife and geek ears around your neck, she would run in the other direction!"

Marlie lost her patience at the comment. She stepped towards Shane and growled, "Hey! At least he's trying and not sitting on his ass all day, shooting guns and jerking off!" Despite the surprised and pissed-off expression now plastered on Shane's face, Marlie wasn't finished yet. "We risked our lives out there for her!" she said, pointing towards the woods behind her. "And we'd gladly do it again. Meanwhile, you're bitching about Fort Benning when there are more _important things _to be dealing with!"

"You _bitch!_" spluttered Shane, hurrying towards the young woman with clenched fists.

Daryl saw the other man's intentions and threw his own fist at him before Shane could harm Marlie. "Don't you touch her!" he snarled fiercely as the officer dropped.

He was back up in an instant with a killing look in his eyes. He bounded towards Daryl, but was blocked by Rick who was shouting angrily at the two men.

Meanwhile, Marlie joined the scuffle, fully prepared to throw her weight around to protect Daryl if need be. She was pushed aside by Andrea, however, but instead of getting angry with the blonde for putting hands on her, Marlie huffed and stepped back.

Daryl did the same a moment later, followed by Shane after Lori shoved him back.

"Don't touch me," he stated impatiently at the woman, pointing a finger at her as he stalked away.

"Now just let me talk to Hershel," Rick called out at his partner. "Let me figure it out."

Shane spun around and rushed Rick then, shouting, "What are you gonna figure out?"

Again, Lori had her husband's back and kept Shane at bay.

"If we're gonna clear this barn," Rick said angrily, "then have to talk Hershel into it. This is _his_ land!"

Marlie breathed out heavily, still out of breath from the scuffle. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and sniffed, eyeing the barn again. She found her place beside Daryl and said, "Thanks."

He knew the reason behind her kind words, so he said nothing. Instead, he nodded folded his arms, still fuming.

Dale spoke up and drew everyone's attention away from each other and onto him. "Hershel believes they're still people. Sick people. His wife, his...his step-son."

"You knew?" Marlie asked quietly, her head cocked to one side curiously.

He nodded over at her before glancing back at Rick. "Yesterday," Dale confirmed. "I talked to Hershel."

"And you waited 'til now?" asked Shane.

"I thought we could make it one more night and we _did_."

"I was waiting until this morning to say something but Glenn wanted to be the one," added Dale.

"This is crazy," snarled Shane abusively. "If Hershel still thinks they're people, then no! We gotta kill 'em!"

Marlie gulped when the barn doors began to move. On the other side, walkers were growling and shaking the doors hungrily. She instinctively took a step back and, without even realizing it, grabbed Daryl's hand and dragged him back with her.

TWDTWDTWD

The next couple of hours were spent in uncomfortable silence. No one had anything to say, not now there were walkers in the barn, and everyone found something to occupy their time and keep their wandering minds busy.

Marlie sat beside a tree, cool beneath its shade, and sharpened her knife on the grate that Andrea let her borrow. When she was finished, she eyed it casually before stabbing into the ground beside her.

All the while, Carl observed.

Daryl appeared from the tent a short time later, appearing to be on a mission.

"Where ya going?" Marlie asked from her seat on the grass.

"To feed the horses."

The young woman frowned and got to her feet. "Those hay bales way eighty pounds. I'm not sure that's the smartest thing to be lifting right now."

He glared at her before lowering his head. "I can't just sit around, Marlie."

She understood that since she, herself, was feeling relatively bored and agitated. "Then I'll come with you."

Daryl shook his head. "Carl's been watchin' you sharpen that knife since the moment you sat down. You were teachin' him to throw, weren't ya? Back at the old camp?"

Marlie glanced over the hunter's shoulder and saw the young boy watching her casually beside his mother, Lori. "Yeah, but you—"

"I'll be fine," finished Daryl. His face was stern, but it quickly melted into a small, reassuring smile. "If I need your help, I'll come get you. Deal?"

Ah, another deal, Marlie mused, grinning childishly. "Fine. Deal. Just don't go near the other barn."

"Don't have to tell me twice," he stated.

"And say hi to the cat for me."

Daryl snorted and nodded. He shuffled the curls on Marlie's head playfully before walking away, leaving the young woman to the task of resuming her teachings with Carl.

It was easy to get Lori's permission, since she'd since yes the first time. Her only words of caution were to be sure that Carl didn't overdo it and strain himself. He was still recovering, after all.

Marlie understood and led the boy out into a clearing, clutching the blade of her knife in her dominant left hand and an empty pop can in her right. "Alright," she began. "Do you remember how I said to hold it?"

"Um, three fingers go on one side and your thumb goes on the other, right?"

With eyes full of surprise, Marlie nodded. She honestly hadn't expected the boy to remember. "Good job," she applauded. "And when you throw it, you flick your wrist and just let go." Placing the empty aluminum can on the ground, Marlie took several steps back, bringing Carl along with her, and tossed her blade. It sliced into the can perfectly and toppled it over.

"Wow, that's cool," Carl said with a big grin, adjusting his dad's deputy hat.

Marlie smirked. "Your turn," she said, handing over the blade to the boy, handle first. "Remember, flick your wrist and release."

"How do I aim?"

"Well, it's a little difficult, to be honest. It took me months before I could even hit a target."

Carl looked up at Marlie. "Really?"

"Yep, but practice makes perfect. The best way to aim is to line the knife up with the can. Let me show you." She stepped around the boy and grabbed his knife-holding hand. Carefully, Marlie adjusted it until it was pointing directly at the can.

"It doesn't feel right," stated Carl.

"Well, when you throw, you aren't actually pointing the knife at the can. Pointing just aligns it better so you're chances of actually hitting the target go up." She adjusted Carl's fingers slightly until their grip was satisfactory before stepping back. "Now, you don't have to pull the knife over your shoulders like in the movies. The only time you really have to do that is when you're trying to hit something farther away. For shorter distances, like the can, you only have to bend your arm a little, like this." Marlie made an example with her own arm, bending it at the elbow by just ninety degrees. When Carl had copied her, she commanded, "Now flick."

Obediently, the boy's wrist flicked and the knife flew from his hands. He held his breath excitedly, but sighed when the blade embedded itself into the ground many inches from the can.

Marlie smiled. "Don't be discouraged," she comforted. "I was _terrible_ my first time. No, worse than terrible! I missed the tree and broke my neighbor's kitchen window."

Carl burst into giggles.

Recalling the event, Marlie shook her head with a smirk. "Luckily, no one was in there cooking or cleaning the dishes." She made a face and giggled, as well. "Shall we try again?"

"Yes," agreed Carl and was handed back the knife.

For over an hour, Marlie worked with Carl until the glorious moment came when the knife pierced the can. They both cheered wildly, high-fiving each other before Carl ran to retrieve his mother.

Lori watched with content pride as her little boy struck the cat again and again and again. "Thank you," she said quietly to Marlie while Carl retrieved the knife, "For keeping his mind busy. It was very kind."

Marlie shrugged with a pleasant grin. "It's nothing. He enjoys it and that's enough for me."

With a friendly pat on Marlie's shoulder, Lori smiled at her son and urged him to keep practicing. She wandered back to camp then to work on a few cleaning tasks.

"Okay," Marlie began once she was gone. "Now why don't you take a step back and try?"

Carl took _two_ steps back and confidently threw the knife. It missed, but just barely.

"I'll give you a few pointers to help you out. One: never hold your breath. Breathe nice and deep and when you throw, exhale."

Nodding, the boy awaited more.

"Two: try putting your left foot forward a little and right foot back." She led by example and smiled widely when Carl obeyed and hit the can. "That's great! That's exactly how to do it. I think you might be better than me." Marlie faked a frown and lowered her head in faux sulk.

Carl laughed. "You're way better than me! I don't think I'll ever be as good as you."

"I don't know, Little Man, you're already on fire. A few more days and you might even _beat_ me."

"Yeah right!"

Marlie snorted and glanced over at the horse stables. She didn't have a visual on Daryl, but she did see Carol wander into the barn.

Following her gaze, Carl tilted his head. "Are you and Daryl together now?"

The young woman blinked and looked down at the boy curiously.

"Mom says you are."

Marlie perked a brow and eyed Lori behind her. "She did, did she?"

"Yeah, and I believe her." He had Marlie's full attention.

"Is that okay with you?" she asked with a silly grin on her face.

Carl nodded. "You two look good together."

Marlie cocked her head. She couldn't believe what she was hearing from a twelve-year-old! Sure, it had become obvious that she and Daryl were a bit of an item now, but hearing it from Carl put the giddy schoolgirl feeling back into her stomach. She snorted and shook her head. "Well then I guess it must be true. I'm glad you think we look…good together."

Maturely, Carl nodded again and prepared to throw the knife.

"Let me know when you start getting tired, okay?"

TWDTWDTWD

In the barn, Daryl carried a heavy saddle in his arms, throwing it painfully onto a stand to clean and prepare it. He huffed at the weight and leaned against the stand for support, his wounded side pulsing uncomfortably.

"You can't," said a voice suddenly. Carol.

Daryl sniffed. "I'm fine," he stated simply, grabbing a brown leather horse bridle off of one of the stalls.

"Hershel says you should rest," continued Carol, worry in her tone as she quickly approached the hunter.

"I don't care." And he really didn't. Finding Sophia was his number priority and he hoped that Marlie hadn't seen the older woman enter the barn, because then she might get curious and want to see where the party was at. Stubborn and curious Marlie, he mused.

Carol walked up beside the man and said quietly, "Well I do. Rick's goin' out later to follow the trail."

Daryl opened up a stable and began maneuvering the bridle onto its snout. He was careful to not pick Nelly or Abacus as his new steed because he'd be damned if he got stranded again. "Yeah," he scoffed. "But I'm not gonna sit around and do nothin'."

"And I'm guessing Marlie doesn't know about this? I know she wouldn't let you go."

"Which is exactly why I haven't told her. I ain't gonna let her put herself in that kind of danger again."

Carol stood back, arms crossed, a calm and patient expression on his face. "You know you're gonna go and get yourself hurt even worse." When the man failed to acknowledge her, Carol continued. "We don't know if we're ever gonna find her, Daryl."

That caught his attention. He stopped bridling the large animal before him and faced the older woman with a confused, disbelieving appearance.

There were tears in her eyes as she added in a barely-audible voice, "I don't." It killed her inside to say those words to someone who had, so far, stopped at nothing to find her missing Sophia. The look he wore for Carol then sent her heart into her gut.

He took a step towards her and asked, "What?"

Carol shifted under Daryl's stiff gaze, but finally admitted, "Can't lose you, too."

The words were confusing for Daryl. The woman might have been looking out for him and his safety, but she had also, as much as he had gathered, grown hopeless. He flinched and shook his head. In a fury of anger, Daryl threw the saddle off the stand violently, but the strain sent lightning bolts of searing pain into his side. He clutched it and stumbled.

"Are you alright?" asked a worried Carol, not sure if she should assist him or keep her distance from the irritated southerner. When she tried to do the former, he waved her off harshly and said,

"Leave me be!" Straightening himself, he left the barn and growled, "Stupid bitch."

It left Carol speechless and regretful for even talking to Daryl in the first place. At least he wasn't riding off on horseback now.

TWDTWDTWD

Marlie called it day a short time later, much to Carl's disappointment. "Sorry, Little Man," she apologized, grabbing the soda can and sheathing her blade. "You have to keep your strength up for next time."

"Next time?" he asked excitedly.

"Yep. This time tomorrow, as long as your mom and dad have no objections."

Apparently, that was Carl's queue to hurry off to ask Lori for permission. Marlie smirked at him and slowly followed behind. She was caught off guard by Rick a few moments later.

"Hey, Marlie," he called after her.

"Rick," she said, nodding. "I've been teaching Carl how to throw a knife."

The officer smiled. "Yeah, I noticed. How's he doin'?"

"He's good. I mean, really good. Better than me when I first learned how to do it."

Rick smirked. "Thank you for givin' him something to take his mind off of what happened earlier."

"It was beneficial for both of us."

"Well I still appreciate it." He glanced around curiously before asking, "Where's Daryl?"

Marlie rolled her eyes at the mention of the stubborn hunter. "Feeding the horses. I told him to let me help, but he insisted on me staying with Carl."

Rick's brows furrowed. "I'm pretty sure Hershel already took care of them, earlier today."

"What?" asked the young woman, suddenly very unhappy. "Then what the hell is he…?" Marlie tapered off at the sudden realization of something. "Gotta go!" she announced, booking it towards the barn and away from a confused Rick. She hadn't run that fast in days and the sprinting pulled painfully at her calf muscles. But sore muscles would be the least of her worries if Daryl had gone off and done what she thought he'd done.

When she arrived at the barn, Daryl was nowhere in sight. And neither was Carol. Frantically, Marlie checked all the stalls to be sure their occupants were still there and, much to Marlie's relief, everyone was. There was, however, a partially bridled steed and a toppled saddle stand. But where was Daryl and how had she managed to miss him leave the barn?

TWDTWDTWD

"See it?" Daryl asked. His mood had improved slightly during his trek to show Carol a little something to boost her spirits.

"See what?" she wondered quietly as she walked beside the small stream that cut into a small part of Hershel's property.

Daryl led her a short ways ahead before pointing at something beside the creek. He stopped and stared at his findings and waited for Carol to catch up and see it for herself. "We'll find her," he stated quietly.

Carol blinked back the tears that suddenly filled her vision at the sight of a particularly beautiful white flower. She immediately recognized it as the kind that Daryl had found for her during one his and Marlie's excursions to find Sophia.

With hesitation, the hunter eyed Carol, the corners of his mouth turning upward ever so slightly. When her blue eyes met his, he said, "I'm sorry for what happened earlier. For what I said."

Carol smiled softly. "You wanted to look for her." She paused before continuing. "Why? This whole time I've wanted to ask you."

His answer came without delay, his voice stern and promising. "'Cuz I think she's still out there."

It was simple, but Daryl's words left a deep impact on Carol's heart. They were the sparks needed to get the flame burning for Sophia again. Reaching out, Carol gently rubbed one white petal of the Cherokee rose, noting how beautiful it really was. With renewed hope, she said, "We'll find her." Turning to Daryl, Carol added, "I see it." She smiled thankfully at the man, glad when he returned the gesture.

TWDTWDTWD

"Have you guys seen Daryl?" Marlie asked Glenn and Maggie who were sitting on Hershel's front porch. "I've been looking all over for him."

"Wasn't he in the barn?" asked Carl from his seat on the porch.

"I checked. He's gone."

Glenn pointed behind her and Marlie frowned when she saw what she was searching for. Granted, she was glad that Daryl wasn't out in the middle of woods, but he'd lied to her. That wasn't going to fly. "Where you've been?" she asked unhappily, pulling up beside him and Carol.

"He was showing me something," informed Carol kindly.

"You said you were going to feed the horses. You were gonna go look for Sophia, _alone_, weren't you?"

Daryl shook his head. "Can we discuss this later?" he asked.

"Fine," Marlie resigned.

Andrea and T-Dog appeared a minute later, wondering where everyone else went.

"Last time I saw Rick, he was wondering off with Hershel," informed Marlie. "I haven't seen Shane, though."

Andrea sighed impatiently. "We were supposed to go look for Sophia two hours ago."

"Yeah you were. What the hell?" asked Daryl impatiently. No one had an answer for him, though. "Damn it! Isn't anybody takin' this seriously? We got us a damn trail."

Rolling her eyes at the ground, Marlie kicked around some dusty dirt at her feet. She knew the man was not fit to go off running around and she knew that he was aware of that fact as well. And yet, he was ready to go galloping in the forest, despite his condition. Much to Marlie's surprise, she was proud of Daryl. Even more to her surprise, she wasn't angry. He hadn't told her that he was going off because he hadn't wanted her to get hurt again. It was an easy enough conclusion to make.

"Ah, here we go," Daryl announced as he noticed Shane approaching with the bag of guns in his hand. Dale's guns.

"Where's Dale?" Marlie called out to the officer, but he ignored her.

Daryl's brows wrinkled at the guns and asked, "What's all this?"

"You with me?" Shane asked coldly, offering a shotgun to the man.

"Hell yeah," answered Daryl, taking the weapon eagerly.

Marlie frowned in his direction. "Daryl, you know what Hershel said about the guns."

"Yeah, and there's a little girl lost out there somewhere with walkers wanderin' around. I think that's reason enough to have guns."

"Shane's _crazy_," she growled lowly. "Do _not_ follow him."

Daryl shook his head. "Hey, don't worry so much about me. I'll be fine."

Marlie hated this. She hated arguing and she hated Shane. It was a strong word to use against somebody, but it fit pretty well with the rogue officer. He was always high-strung and spouting off horrible ideas that he believed were best for the group and Marlie hated him.

"Time to grow up," announced Shane. He looked over at Andrea. "You got yours?" he asked, meaning a gun.

"Yeah," she replied. "Where's Dale?"

"He's on his way," Shane answered, handing off a weapon to T-Dog, who took it hesitantly and said,

"I thought we couldn't carry."

"We can't," stated Marlie, pulling up beside Shane.

"We can if we have to."

Marlie scoffed. "That's wrong! You aren't in charge."

"Marlie," began Daryl quietly, reaching his free hand out to her touch her shoulder.

She shrugged it off, ignoring him. "Shane, you're not in charge! Rick should decide what to do—"

He spun around and pointed a stiff finger at Marlie threateningly. "Rick can't decide right from wrong, cuz if he could, he'd have let us kill those barn walkers the moment we heard about 'em." Taking a step closer to her, Shane added, "You better stay out of my way, Marlie."

"Hey! Leave her outta this," asserted Daryl, finding his place beside Marlie.

She snorted and shook her head. "I don't need your help, Daryl," she said lowly.

"Hey, look," Shane spoke up again, addressing everyone else. "It was one thing standin' around pickin' daisies when we thought this place was suppose to be safe, but now we know it ain't. How 'bout you, man?" he asked, handing out a shotgun to Glenn. "You gonna protect yours?"

With reluctance, the young man snatched the weapon.

"Can you shoot?" the officer asked Maggie.

"Can you stop?"

Shane shook his head and turned away.

"If you do this, if you hand out all these guns, Hershel will make you all leave tonight."

"You have to stay, Shane." Carl's voice sounded from the porch beside Patricia and a moment later, his mother appeared from the house, the look of unhappiness evident in her face.

"What is goin' on? Where are you goin'?"

"We ain't goin' anywhere, okay?" announced Shane. "Now look, Hershel is just gonna have to understand. He's gonna have to." He turned to Carl then. "Now you wanna find Sophia, don't you? I want you to take this. I want you to do whatever it takes to keep your mother safe, okay? Take it."

"Shane, stop it," said Marlie. "Leave him alone."

"Marlie," was all he said to silence the young woman.

She looked up at Daryl with a questioning glare. "You're just gonna stand there and do whatever he says?" There was venom in her words.

Daryl frowned, but remained quiet.

Shane turned back to Carl and commanded, "Take the gun. You know how to use it, so just take it."

Lori was between her son and Shane in an instant. "Rick said no guns. This is not your call. This is not your decision to make."

"Oh shit," announced T-Dog suddenly, catching everyone's attention.

At the edge of the woods appeared Hershel, Rick and Jimmy. Along with them, there were two walkers at the end of a couple of poles.

Marlie's eyes went wide at the sight.

"What is that?" growled Shane, breaking into a sprint towards Rick, followed closely by everyone else. "What the hell are you doin'?"

"Shane, just back off," ordered Rick impatiently. He was holding onto a long rod with a very unhappy walker tied at the end.

Hershel had an identical set up. "Why do your people have guns?" he asked calmly.

"Do you see what they're holdin' onto?" Shane spat.

"I see _who_ I'm holding onto," corrected Hershel.

Rick strained against his walker. He was in no mood to go toe-to-toe with his partner. "Let us do this and then we can talk."

"Talk about what?" shouted Shane. "These things ain't sick.

"Jesus," Marlie whispered shakily, keeping several feet back and frowning when Daryl got closer to point his new shotgun at the head of one geek.

Shane continued aggressively. "They're not people! They're dead! All they do is kill! These things, right here. These are the things that killed Amy! They killed Otis! They killed whoever led you to cut your wrists!"

Marlie tensed under his words. He looked right at her. _Right _at her. For a moment, she had completely forgotten about the fact that her gloves were gone and her scars were perfectly visible to the world. But she remembered now and rubbed at them timidly.

"They'll kill all of us unless we do somethin'!"

"Shane, shut up!" screamed Rick, finally having enough of the other man's psychobabble.

But he wasn't done. "Hershel, let me ask you somethin'. Could a livin', breathin' person walk away from this?" _Bang_. His handgun went off and a bullet flew through one of the walker's abdomen. Then another went into its chest. One more followed suit.

"STOP IT!" commanded Rick furiously.

Shane completely ignored him. "I just put two rounds in its chest. If someone was alive, could they just take that? Why is it still comin'? The heart, the lungs," he wondered, still shooting.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

"You're right," agreed Shane, hurrying up to the bullet-riddled walker. "That _is_ enough." A final shot to the skull ended it.

And everyone stood in shock. No one had ever seen Shane act the way he was now. Heartless, cold, murderous. It didn't matter that he'd only killed a walker. The look in his eyes while he did it said that he was capable of doing it to anybody else, dead or alive.

Marlie didn't know what to do or think or say. So she stood there, motionless behind Daryl, who still had his gun trained on the remaining walker's head. She stared at Hershel, who had fallen to his knees beside the dead geek, horror and sadness casting shadows in his eyes. This was the world she lived in. A world where people turned into Shanes and ceased to care about other's feelings.

"I'm done riskin' our lives for a little girl who's _gone!_" Shane looked directly at Carol as he spoke. "Enough!"

Flinching at the hatred and rage in the man's voice, Marlie quickly found her way to Carol's side, putting a comforting arm around the older woman's shoulder. There were tears in both of their eyes.

And Shane ranted on, his voice never lowering, his anger always building. "Livin' next to a barn full of things that are tryin' to kill us. Enough! Rick, it ain't like it was before. Now, if you all wanna live, if you wanna survive, you gotta fight for it! I'm talking about right here, right now! _Fight!"_ He turned around and ran for the barn behind him.

Rick looked down a speechless Hershel. "Take this, Hershel. Take it!" he begged, trying to hand off the walker to the old man. Rick couldn't deal with Shane unless his walker was taken care of. "Take it!"

But Hershel didn't move. Nobody did. They all just watched as Shane beat on the barn door. Beat at the latches and locks that were keeping the dead and the living separate.

As much as Marlie wanted to move and intervene, her legs were stuck in their place beside Carol. Marlie was terrified. She shook against Carol, which certainly didn't help comfort the older woman, but Marlie couldn't stop. Her mind was rattling, her heart was racing, she was stunned. "Daryl," she said quietly, to get his attention and hopefully bring him to her. Marlie wanted him as far away from the barn and the walkers as possible.

The hunter looked over his shoulder at her, saw her conflicted expression, and realized that he was just as concerned and confused as she was. But he couldn't lower his shotgun. He refused. It was for everyone's safety and he wouldn't leave the geek unguarded, but he wasn't about kill it in cold blood as Shane had. He did, however, take a step back towards Marlie. He hoped that would comfort her a little bit, now that he was that much farther from the starving walker before him.

People were shouting, crying out for Shane to stop. But he wouldn't listen. He just smashed at the door's latches with a pick-axe until they broke free.

Marlie's heart skipped a beat when the locks fell away.

He lifted away the wooden plank that was laid across the door and threw it to the ground.

There was nothing keeping the walkers in now.

"SHANE, PLEASE!" screamed Lori, clutching onto Carl's hand tightly.

"STOP!" Rick cried, helpless.

But he didn't stop. The son of a bitch banged loudly on the barn door, further riling up the monsters within, and then he hurried back to the group, weapon at the ready.

Marlie reached for her blade, but didn't unsheathe it. Not even when the first walker squeezed through the unlocked barn doors. Not when the first shot was fired. Not when Shane took aim at the walker in Rick's grasp and blew it away. Not when Glenn was given permission by a tearful Maggie to do what he had to do. Not when Daryl started shooting and formed a line alongside T-Dog, Andrea, Glenn, and Shane. She simply stood beside Carol, holding her up against her side because there was nothing else that could be done to make anybody feel better. Marlie saw Hershel, still kneeled on the ground, sad and hurt and horrified, and there was nothing to be done.

The last walker fell and it was over. The air smelled of gunpowder and death.

Dale walked passed Marlie, his eyes focused on the disgusting scene before him, unsure of what to say or do. So he, like most everyone else, stood still and quiet.

Daryl breathed heavily and looked over his shoulder at Marlie, who eyed him without expression. He'd never seen her like that before. Slowly, the man made his way over to her, to hold her and apologize, but to tell her that it had to be done, that he was looking out for the group, protecting it.

And she would accept that and hold him close to her and they'd wait to see what happens next.

But that wasn't how it went. Things never happened how they were suppose to, because all attention was directed back at the barn, stopping Daryl in his tracks. There was hoarse breathing coming from just inside and it grew louder and louder.

Shane lifted his gun, preparing to eliminate the final foe. But he hadn't been expecting what appeared a moment later and his gun fell back to his side.

The world fell down around everyone as Sophia took a step into the sun, snarling and breathing hard. She lifted her eyes and sank every beating heart in sight.

"No," Carol breathed beside Marlie, shrugging off the younger woman's arm and hurrying out of her reach towards Sophia.

Marlie barely made a move after the woman, though, for she crossed paths with Daryl and he was quick to stop her.

"Sophia," Carol said quietly, sadly, as she fell to her knees with Daryl. She reached out uselessly, begging for her daughter, who had become the one thing that haunted all of their nightmares.

And there was nothing to be done.

Rick took a step towards the little girl, then another, and another, quickening his pace through the group and passed Shane until he was mere feet from Sophia.

What had once been Sophia.

He raised his gun hesitantly, his jaw tensed and trembling, and fired.

The little girl collapsed onto the ground, her form crumpled and unmoving.

And suddenly, at the sound of Carol's sobbing, the final gunshot, Carl curled up in his mother's lap begging for his friend back, everything fell into place around Marlie. She remembered her dream. She remembered why she had wanted to die. She didn't want to live in this kind of world. Seeing Daryl kneeled beside a distraught Carol, Marlie realized something that she hadn't before, something that she had chose to ignore and replace with nice things.

There was no hope. There never had been.


End file.
